


Dashing Away with the Music Sheets, She Stole My Choir Away

by RosaClearwater



Series: Dashing Away with the Music Sheets, She Stole My Choir Away [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Future tags to probably be added ;D :), Gen, Pre-Relationship, this is absolutely an ensemble piece, though I'm totally bias and it will absolutely be Chelsie focused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-09-01 21:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 64,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16772959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaClearwater/pseuds/RosaClearwater
Summary: Charles Carson has always been the director of voice studies at Downton Academy. Not only that, he's always had a clear system for vocal studies at the private school. Precision and propriety, those two words have been his mantra since day one. He only accepts the most hardworking of students, only conducts the most sacred pieces -- only delves into the music that transcends the world and breathes life into lasting tradition.That is, until his bosses bluntly inform that times are changing and so must he.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Welcome to "Dashing Away with the Music Sheets, She Stole My Choir Away"! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little choral adventure. This will be mainly Chelsie-focused, but there's definitely going to be interactions with and cameos from other characters :) I'm also absolutely interested in requests and suggestions.
> 
> Also, there definitely was some inspiration from chelsie fan's "Downton Academy". Seeing that there was such a beautiful series gave me the confidence to actually post this. So, thank you, chelsie fan :)

"I'm afraid there is nothing we can do, Mr. Carson," Violet Crawley had spoken with an attitude that broke no argument. Her normally sharp gaze did hold an unusual hint of disdain to remind him that, even though she also didn't care for the situation, it was out of her hands. "We did not have enough time to find a suitable replacement, but with the chorale studies at this academy at the immense level that they are, we unfortunately required the extra assistance. You can hardly believe expected to manage 200 students _alone_."

"Of course, you're quite correct. And, I'm sorry if this I am speaking out of turn, but - why wasn't I consulted before she was hired?"

"Mr. Carson," He stiffened at the somewhat tone borderline patronizing tone coming from Martha Levinson. "You were out of the country on a choir tour, eight hours behind us I might add, and we were running out of time. And we now, thankfully, have a decent fill-in for the rest of the semester. Since it won't take Mrs. Butte that long to recover, I'm sure your world won't come crashing down in the course of sixteen weeks.

He took the words in silence, refusing to let these particular remarks bristle him.

"Now, Mr. Carson, would we have liked to have properly consulted you?" Robert Crawley tried to chime in - seeing as how he was one of the founders of the school. "You know as well as I-"

Yet, being a founder didn't matter much in this particular setting.

"Yes, 'proper consultation' is always nice. It's also often a luxury. Was there an appropriate time to have 'properly consulted' you? Not in the slightest." Martha cut him off, not interested in platitudes or reassurances.

Violet arched an eyebrow at this. Robert deflated a little. And Cora glanced at the door, hoping this little meeting would soon end.

In essence, Mr. Carson was not the only person who currently had issues with such nonchalant and blunt words coming out of the American's mouth. However, said American did hold control over the rather large amount of the money that kept Downton Academy running. So everyone did what they did best:

They picked their battles wisely.

"... Indeed." "Of course." "I suppose this is true." "As always, you're right, Mrs. Levinson."

And with that, it was only a few more minutes before that horribly awkward meeting came to an eventual, and unfortunately dismal, conclusion:

A stranger named Elsie Hughes was going to be invading his sanctuary for the next sixteen weeks.

And there was nothing he could do to stop it.


	2. Meetings and Rumors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, as a heads up, I'm going to bring in characters from various series/seasons together :) So, this will be less about following the canon of who's upstairs/downstairs only during Series 5, for example, and more about just having fun with a lot of lovely people. And, for those not used to my style, we do a lot of jumping between multiple perspectives. And, no worries, if that sounds a little confusing I promise it should make sense by the end of this chapter.
> 
> And, now, allow me to give you the second chapter :)

It was with a sense of dread that Charles Carson next returned to the school. While Martha Levinson was not inaccurate in regards to running out of time - Mrs. Butte had fallen severely ill only just five days before the start of term, after all - she was inaccurate in the belief that he could not be consulted on the matter of hiring her replacement. Even if, just as she said, he had been out of the country on official school business until two days ago. And he was still somewhat recovering from jet lag, as well as all these ghastly changes.

  
Unfortunately, there truly was nothing he could about it. The only thing he could do is ensure that Mrs. Hughes was informed of the established structure for the chorale studies of Downton Academy. That it was impressed upon this woman, a woman whom he had never interviewed let alone met, just how important her job is. How vital it is that she help to enrich the lives of their charges. How necessary it would be for her to truly transcend the possibilities when it came to choral sounds.

At the imminent task looming before him, Charles Carson only had one thought:

_God help us all._

_._

"Can't believe they actually hired her _without_ Mr. Carson!"

"Believe what you want, Mrs. Bird," Mrs. Patmore said, fully focused taking in the sight of one of her favorite rooms in the building: her band room. "But, I'll have you know that Elsie Hughes is not only a wonderful friend, but a more than worthy substitute for Mrs. Butte."

Mrs. Bird snorted at this.

"Mrs. Patmore, Isobel Crawley would be a better substitute by far and that woman _cannot_ carry a tune for the life of her."

_._

Now, she may have already been hired, but that meant there was no need for bad manners.

"I just wanted to say thank you for allowing me this opportunity, Mrs. Crawley,"

"Nonsense," The woman before her put a stop to the gratitude, "It is Downton who will be allowed an opportunity, Mrs. Hughes." The choral teacher smiled at this, grateful nevertheless.

"Well, I truly cannot wait to start the semester. Once again, thank you."

Isobel returned the smile warmly, quite confident she had made the right selection.

_Now, it's just a matter of convincing my fellow colleagues as such,_ the woman thought to herself as the new choir teacher took her leave.

Though, in all honesty, Isobel had no doubt that they would all be just as taken with Mrs. Hughes as she was.

_._

"I heard Mrs. Butte got fired!" Sarah O'Brien scoffed at this.

"Where did you ever get that stupid idea? She's just ill."

"Well," Daisy responded hotly, choosing not to reveal her source, "If she's 'just ill', why didn't she just take a sick day then?"

O'Brien resisted the urge to throttle her fellow singer. Instead, she dramatically heaved out a sigh and walked away in search for some tolerable company, preferably in the form of Thomas.

_._

It wasn't not even 8 o'clock and he's already heard the rumors involving the choral studies and Mrs. Butte fly about. And while his fellow colleagues knew better than to pester him about such matters, that didn't mean he didn't catch the whiffs of indecorous gossip scattered about by both students _and_ fellow staff members.

Worse still, there definitely wasn't even time for him to run away and enjoy a simple cup of tea far away from it all. As much as he'd like to pretend like this was all some awful nightmare, there certainly wasn't time for bemoaning the situation. In short, the choir director only had one thing he could do to reduce the distress that was sure to come:

Hum the this semester's selection of songs and hope this was in fact a dream that would be ending shortly.

_._

"But, who do you think would replace her?" Mary rolled her eyes at Edith's insistent question.

"I don't think we'll really know until we get to class, Edith." Thank heavens for Sybil and her patience. Had she not stepped in, Mary probably would've said something far too harsh for a Monday morning.

"Does it really matter who replaces her? It's only for a semester, it's certainly not permanent." _Though I wish it were - Mrs. Butte has the worst taste in music I've ever encountered._

"There's no need to get so snippy, Mary." _Ah yes, 'poor me. I'm Edith Crawley and I make such a big issue out of things.'_

"Oh, really-"

"Edith, Mary, please," Really, it was a testament to Sybil's nature that she still tolerated their bickering after all this time.

_._

Somewhere along the way to his sanctuary, Charles found himself straying from the concert selection and into holiday music in general. The traditional choral selection aside, "I Heard the Bells", "White Christmas" were beautiful pieces that also stole his heart away if he were to be honest. However, there was one piece in particular that captivated his attention as he took to the stairs.

" _Led by the light_

_Of faith serenely beaming,"_

Four flights of stairs seemed far less impossible to climb when there was such a tranquil song to quietly hum to one's self.

" _With glowing hearts,_

_By his cradle we stand-_ "

"You have a lovely voice." A slight laugh. "Hum, technically."

He froze.

"Was that 'O Holy Night'?"

The unfamiliar voice had brought his attention away from whatever had been bothering him. And now he was awkwardly swiveling towards the stranger on the stairs.

Charles couldn't help but remain stopped in his tracks, still surprised that someone had not only interrupted him mid-song - something that hadn't occurred in at least a decade - but they even complimented his voice.

_Well something that hasn't happened quite possibly in_ _ **decades**_ _\- and you still haven't actually responded!_

"You have a nice voice yourself," Mr. Carson expressed without thinking, absolutely flustered and only making it worse. "Rather, what I really meant was that - well, that... well, yes, that was 'O Holy Night'." It seemed that the choir director was struggling with eloquence within this surreal moment. "And, thank you."

"You're welcome." There was a hint of a playful look in those watching eyes, but it was a look that he absolutely missed: it seemed Mr. Carson was unable to properly take note of anything currently.

Fortunately, he had somewhat of a reason as to why:

See, oddly enough, the woman before him struck him in way he never thought possible. She wasn't the photoshopped stuff of magazines he was always confiscating from the students. Rather, there was a lighthearted air about her that he couldn't help but be drawn to. There was a hint of humor tucked away in the serious stare she currently displayed. Her hair was neatly pinned back in a professional manner, but it was not with the apathy of a stern and uncaring person. Rather, it was with gentle consideration and a fascinating kindness.

Now, even though he did indeed have a reason, it didn't really help matters - his reaction and the woman as a whole did little more than confuse him.

"Mr. Carson I presume?" She held out a hand for him to shake, but he startled once more at her unexpected knowledge. The woman tilted her head a moment, a smile threatening to break free of the professional demeanor, before she finally explained herself:

"It's on your lanyard."

He glanced down, realized she was quite correct, and settled for staring at the lanyard in lieu of a more graceful action.

"Oh."

That's when he realized that the stranger still had her hand out, waiting patiently. He immediately went to shake it, surprised at how confident and firm her handshake was. Luckily, the confidence even managed to instill some of his own within these murky social waters.

They stand there in silence for another minute before he realized two things:

1) He had no idea as to whose hand he was still holding.

2) He was still holding her hand.

"Where's your lanyard?" Charles can't help but ask as he quickly drops the grip. Quite frankly, he knows he could've phrased that question more eloquently. But, just as frankly, he's shocked that a faculty member would forego such a vital rule.

"Oh, I didn't know we had to wear them already." She paused, looking at his own lanyard before meeting his gaze once more.

"Really?"

"'Really. I confess I hold a fair amount of ignorance when it comes to Downton Academy's rules involving identification." Now, he couldn't tell if she was teasing him or not. But he did catch a hint of something quite fascinating in that tone.

Nevertheless, rules are rules for a reason - especially in such a prestigious institution as Downton Academy.

"Well, that will have to change if you intend on to stay on the staff." _Perhaps not the kindest thing to say, Charles_ , the berating thought comes forth, and forces him to continue. "In any case, as a member of this staff you must set the example for the students. And, since these particular example is to wear your lanyard as a form of identification, you must wear your lanyard as a form of identification."

The woman nodded, politely taking in this information and still not retrieving her lanyard from inside her purse. It was then that he realized they were still awkwardly stopped on the stairs. Immediately, Mr. Carson bade her goodbye via a curt nod before picking up the pace once again. He simply had to focus on getting back to his domain before the school day officially begun, instead the somehow charming ineptitudes of first-time staff members.

"Should I attach my keys to it, then?" Charles had jumped at the sound of her voice, having not anticipated she'd still be following him. _Doesn't she have somewhere else to be, somewhere that's not stuck with me?_ "So, as to make sure my identity is clear?"

Okay, now he knew she was absolutely being cheeky. He also felt he was missing the joke, but he also felt that to admit as such would make him look even more foolish.

So, Mr. Carson settled for the best option: retreating behind walls of propriety and neutrality.

"You must do as you feel is best, Mrs.-?" For she had to be a Mrs., as the simple gold ring on that particular finger indicated.

"Hughes." She said, seeming to be enjoying herself. "Elsie Hughes."

His jaw dropped rather unwillingly.

" _You're_ Elsie Hughes?" Her eyes twinkled just a bit at his disbelief, and it horrifying perfect time. For, as they came to yet another stop, it just so happen to be right outside the main choir room: Room 402.

"I do believe that is what I just said, Mr. Carson, yes."

This woman, both polite and lovely and possibly somewhat sarcastic, was Elsie Hughes. This woman before him was going to be his colleague for the next sixteen weeks.

… Charles Carson had no idea how he truly felt about that.


	3. Auditoriums and Explanations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than the previous chapter, we're still setting the stage for this little story! But, proper plot is on the way, I promise :)
> 
> And, also, thank you for your patience! Now that the chaos of the last few months is coming to an end, it should be far easier to consistently update!

The American high school system blending into a British private academy, something that she never thought she'd ever encounter, is manageable.

The fact that she'd be teaching on the _second_ fourth floor, with an elevator that hardly worked at the best of times, is doable.

The realization that she would either be playing the accompaniment or conducting far more than she'd be singing was a relief she handled quite gracefully.

So, if it's not the job description, the work environment, or the organizational structure, what could possibly stop her in tracks?

Well, simply put?

The auditorium.

She can handle the four flights of stairs and the stuffy classrooms that await. She's quite alright with managing her way through the music library, even though his "organized" system could use some work. And there's no problem in regards to taking the smaller of the choir rooms to rehearse, especially since she had no expectation in that regard.

But this is an auditorium that stole her breath the moment he opened the door. They had abandoned the lunch break in order to finish up her tour of the school, something that was just an unorthodox as an uncompleted school tour in Mr. Carson's opinion. And, once she stepped down onto the main floor of the auditorium, all she could do was stare in wonder because she hadn't entered such a grand space in _decades_.

It's definitely an auditorium made for a grand and prestigious institution. Gleaming with elegance, she could quickly tell it confidently seats over 1,000 people. It's a space that caused a familiar fire to spark within her once more. It's a glamorous fire that crackles at the fact that she can feel the history of the school melding into these chairs before her. It's a hypnotic scene where she can breathe in the traditions of the school, traditions that can be found seeping into every crevice - including the fire-curtain that's at least half a century old. And it is these such facts, it is this experience of such an mesmerizing fire, that Elsie's begins to remember her original reasons for taking to the stage.

And the best part: she's not the only one who changed upon entering this enthralling space.

When Mr. Carson shows her this space, she can see the pride overtake his voice and can feel his own enthusiasm spark to life. In his explanations of the auditorium and school's history, explanations far more thorough than Mrs. Patmore ever gave her, it becomes clear that his knowledge of the space is deeper than perhaps even the library's. There's hints of riveting stories within his voice, stories that only truly come to life within this stylish sanctuary.

And it's at this point that Elsie knows she's not going to be leaving this academy any time soon -- not if she can help it. It's in this moment that that she realizes that she has no intention of just doing a decent job for sixteen weeks and the calling it a day. She now wants to walk away feeling like she's made a tangible, positive difference. She craves to feel as though she was of real help to some aspect of this institution.

Within the last five minutes of touring the room, she felt more lively than she has in a very long time. And long after she left this auditorium, that liveliness was determined to grow into a roaring fire - a blaze of persistency to do anything she could to make this semester a success.

_._

"For the love of," Anna Smith was many things: a kind soul, a quick wit, a passionate student, and…

And, apparently someone who was going to be late to class.

Now, normally, choir wouldn't be high on the list of classes one should never be late to. But if Mr. Carson were in charge of the class, or worse, Mrs. Butte, then one should endeavor to never be-

"Excuse me, but is this the way to the choir room?"

She turned, "Yup, it's just up this way," and started taking the stairs once more -- not really paying a terrible amount of attention to her new companion.

"Thank you." He smiled, following her with ease. "Someone had said something about a second fourth floor, but I didn't really think there was one."

She snickered softly in agreement, recalling her first time trekking up these stairs. "Yes, it is a bit confusing. But once you get it, it never leaves you."

He nodded in agreement, and that's when she noticed the cane. Unusual for a teenager to walk around with a cane, but it wasn't her place to judge.

Rather, it was her place to get to class within the next two minutes.

_._

"I'm afraid, students, that Mrs. Butte will not be joining us this semester." Mr. Carson intoned solemnly, oblivious to the fact that ninth-tenths of the room now seemed to radiate relief at this.

"What happened to Mrs. Butte, Mr. Carson?" He sharply met the inquisitive gaze of Jimmy, one of the most frustrating tenors in the mixed chorus.

"She fell ill, James. And that is all there is to it." It was childish, but the choir director thoroughly enjoyed watching his student narrow his eyes at the formal use of his name. "As such, Mrs. Hughes has been kind enough to step in at the final hour and offer her timely assistance."

At this, all the students in the room turned to her. But, having already explained this unusual situation to eighty young women in the previous class, Mrs. Hughes hardly batted an eye at the newfound curiosity.

"Now, I'm sure you will show Mrs. Hughes the same amount of respect that you would show Mrs. Butte or myself." They stiffened at this, most students recognizing the infamous "this section of the school is my domain and you will behave with the _utmost_ decorum whilst you remain here" voice. After all, it was the tone that drew only the most serious student towards the second fourth floor.

"And if I hear of a single incidence of disrespect," He let the warning fall into a dramatic silence, making sure they were all aware of the unspoken disciplinary consequences. After a few seconds, Mr. Carson caught a meaningful look from his colleague in question, a look that informed him that she wanted to speak to the class. As such, he gestured to front of the room -- content to let her speak.

"Mr. Carson," She stepped forth, perfectly capable of defending herself and perfectly fine with _not_ scaring these students half to death. The students in question immediately made a double take at least, shocked that someone in this building was allowed to essentially interrupt their stern director during one of his infamous lectures. "I'm sure that we can show them that same respect we ask of by trusting them to act in a mature fashion. Furthermore," She paused, letting her own smile shift into something a bit sterner.

"I'm equally sure that they understand the need for such respect. And, as such, I suspect we will have no problems."

Her message was clear:

She was not going to be Mr. Carson. And, they were still going to give her just as much respect.

_._

"Well, she's no Mrs. Butte." Sarah O'Brien muttered under her breath as Mr. Carson explained the same old routine he'd been explaining for probably the last century.

"You've certainly got that right. But just who is Mrs. Hughes?" Thomas was intrigued but, unlike many of the students, he refrained from being impressed with her attitude just yet. Many a teacher could fake an attitude for a day or two. And this was just the first hour.

"Search me."

Well, in any case, Thomas intended to find out.

_._

Mary sat in the front, watching the whole interaction with feigned interest. As with everything in school, the beginning was always the dullest part.

There'd be an explanation of the choir rehearsal system and a breakdown of any changes - if there are indeed any. That would be followed by a lecture on "the propriety required for those involved in chorale studies within this fine institution", and then all students are either voiced or re-voiced.

Mary knew the schedule by heart, memorized the propriety speech two years ago, knew she was a solid first soprano, etcetera.

The only thing that was a mystery to her was just who the woman standing next to Mr. Carson really was.

And, just how much vexation that woman would potentially cause the eldest Crawley daughter.

_._

"What is it you said that Mrs. Hughes is known for, Mrs. Patmore?" It seemed the orchestra and band teachers never had so much reason to properly converse until this year.

"Solo work, Mrs. Bird. Solo work, and some choir work here and there. But if you want her specialty for teaching, that would be _a cappella_ music." The orchestra director looked rather shocked at this.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Patmore, I must've misheard you. Did you mean to tell me we've just hired someone who will be invested in 'Glee Clubs' and the likes?" Mrs. Patmore scoffed at this assessment, getting ready to defend her friend.

"I'll have you know," She started, "That there's _a lot_ more to it than just 'Glee Clubs and the likes'."

_Not very likely._ "Whatever you say, Mrs. Patmore." 

One thing was for sure:

This would be quite the semester.


	4. Moments and Momentum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello again, and thank you for all of your fantastic support! As I mentioned before, I'm going to try to be more consistent with posting. Also, there will be a reference to a song later in the chapter. If you want to look it up in order to follow along when it comes up, just search "Masters of Harmony This is the Moment". It should be the first option. And finally, song lyrics will appear italicized with quotation marks.
> 
> Thoughts, on the other hand, will be italicized with no quotation marks.
> 
> In any case, here is the next chapter!

Well, this was it.

Her first ensemble at Downton Academy.

After voicing the students for the first two days, and helping with the main choruses for the following week, she finally got to meet her first ensemble at this school. This particular group of women were all from the Mixed Choir -- the group Mr. Carson held the most pride for. In any case, it hardly mattered if they were four years old at this rate: Elsie would finally get to direct once again. She would finally be able to work with willing students, and would finally be able to maneuver sound of volunteering voices.

But, so far, they seemed more interested in maneuvering information out of _her._

“As you now see, one of our first pieces we will be working with this semester is ‘Panis Angelicus’ _._ ” They hardly glance at it, still pinning her down with inquisitive stares. Something they’d been doing ever since she gathered them all in this room.

“Mrs. Hughes, was this a piece you selected? Or, did Mr. Carson choose it?” Sarah O’Brien was someone Mr. Carson mentioned she should keep an eye out for -- the young lady could easily bordered impertinence at the best of times.

Fortunately, Elsie could handle herself.

“Seeing as how I only had two days to prepare, I was hardly in a position to pick the music, Sarah.”

“I see.” The choir teacher doubted that O’Brien truly did see. She also had the funniest feeling that she would be the subject of a rant later today. And that it would probably seem as though the world was treating Sarah O’Brien in the cruelest of fashions now that an authority figure was going to sass her right back. 

“Now, then,”

“What would have been your first choice, Mrs. Hughes?” Anna Smith, on the other hand, seemed to be speaking from less of a challenging tone. Still, speaking out of turn so early on could not be tolerated.

Not yet, in any case.

Not until they had proven they could pick up the music _and_ perform it.

“While I don’t take kindly to interruptions when there’s music to learn,” Anna nodded at this while O’Brien stiffened. “If it will satisfy your curiosity enough for us to accomplish the task at hand, I see no reason as to why there can’t be an answer.” She waited another moment, content to take advantage of their full attention. “I would have chosen a little different. Perhaps something with more of an _a cappella_ sound.”

Judging from their now rising curiosity, she should have just started the original piece.

For it was now very unlikely that they would let the matter rest and focus on the task at hand.

“ _A cappella_?” Sybil Crawley coyly asked her question, but Elsie knew that if she didn’t answer Anna then she would hardly have anyone’s attention for the next hour.

“Is that like _Glee_ or _Pitch Perfect_?” Rose MacClare piped up, seemingly unable to help herself. Mrs. Hughes sighed, refraining from scowling as she turned back to Rose. It wasn’t the girl’s fault that these two were her only references to _a cappella._

“While Glee Clubs do exist, those are typically for show choirs and the likes. Furthermore, show choir music isn’t always _a cappella_. And, while _Pitch Perfect_ is one representation of _a cappella_ music, there’s far more to the genre than just that.”

“Could you show us just exactly what you mean by that, Mrs. Hughes?” She allowed a very faint smile at Edith Crawley’s curiosity, having not encountered such genuine interest in her favorite genre for quite some time.

“Only once we have worked on ‘Panis Angelicus’ for what I deem to be a sufficient time.”

_._

He’s focused on getting the men’s ensemble invested in “Mary Had a Baby” today. Simple enough and well known enough that even the most inexperienced singers before him can pick up at least part of the first page within the first thirty minutes.

This contentment is further accentuated with relief by the fact that he can hear the dulcet tones of “Panis Angelicus” faintly coming from next door.

See, the walls of Downton Academy were thick enough that quiet conversation would never make it past the door. But, they were thin enough that music would always ring through the wood and transcend the physical barrier.

And that ringing sound currently told him that Mrs. Hughes’s first ensemble rehearsal could quite easily be classified as a success.

So, while smiling would never be an action for Charles Carson to take while he was in "Director Mode", he certainly could enjoy the unusual smoothness that was accompanying their first official rehearsals.

Surely, it was a sign of the easy-going semester to come.

_._

It took only 35 minutes after the warm-ups for her to decide that they’ve given “Panis Angelicus” enough of a go for today.

_The real question is,_ she thought to herself bemused, _What should I show them first?_

But as she looked over her charges for the day, she knew just which piece to show with the time remaining.

_._

Each choir room is equipped with a projector and a projection screen. Mr. Carson would hardly spend a minute at best touching any of it if he has to -- he’d only use it to show concert videos so the students can self-critique themselves. And, even then, he would have a younger student put all the connections and wires and what-has-its together.

Mrs. Hughes, on the other hand, isn’t afraid of a little technology.

_._

Edith faintly sighed in relief as the music binders were neatly shut and the sheet music was put away for now. Singing second soprano was fun, true. But “Panis Angelicus” was a song that made her think of dreary days spent in church. Days where she had wanted to look outside, take note of what was going on in the world, maybe even write a story. But, days that she unfortunately had to spend hours inside church.

So, when Mrs. Hughes finally pushed the projector into action and brought out her phone to pull up a video, Edith was convinced that this was already off to a better start than any of those days in church.

“Now, ladies,” The older woman’s voice hinted of many stories in just those two words, something Edith was sure she couldn’t have been the only one to notice. But, alas, Sarah, Mary, and a fair amount of the others had furtively whipped out their phones after they stopped singing. “The voices you’re about to hear belong to the Masters of Harmony.”

Edith eagerly looked at the screen, curious to see what would properly flicker to life in just a minute. A Youtube video showed up screen, the grainy quality dating it to the 90s. And even though the projector was still warming up, Edith could already tell there was an unusual sight waiting to be witnessed:

After all, never before had she seen so many men on a stage at the same time -- and certainly not to that level of coordination when it came to their wardrobe.

_“This is the moment,”_ It was a faint whisper, a soft promise that was made now to fifty girls in an old dusty room. But, a promise nevertheless.

_“This is the day,”_ The projector was now beginning to show at least one hundred men adorning an ensemble of blue and white upon a simple stage. Edith was already bewitched, but the air around her spoke of a crowd that still wasn’t fully focused on the scene at hand.

_“This is the moment when I know_

_I’m on my way,”_

She could hardly withhold a slightly smile, glancing back at Mrs. Hughes. Only, upon looking at her teacher, there clearly were many memories now coming to life in the woman’s eyes. The choir teacher seemed absolutely lost to the song, to the point where a shooting star could’ve slammed into the building and she wouldn’t have noticed.

_“Every endeavour,”_ Heads shot up at the captivating sound now pouring into the room.

_“I have made ever,”_ Phones were blatantly ignored, and some even started to actually swoon at the sound of the voices.

_“Is coming into play,_

_Is here and now today.”_

Even when it was clear that a fair amount of the singers themselves were older than Mr. Carson, the young ladies moved past superficial judgments -- quite fixated by that powerful tone.

_“This is the moment,_

_This the time,_

_When the momentum and the moment are in rhyme.”_

_._

_What on Earth is Mrs. Hughes playing at?_

He had been shocked to have heard the sounds of _men_ singing begin to come from the _women’s_ ensemble room. And seeing as how all of the male singers of Downton Academy were either in front of him or attending their other classes, there could only be one explanation:

It was only Week Two of the new semester, and she had already abandoned her pupils’ need to learn their material? Week Two of a new year, and she apparently was content to watch videos with her students?

A smooth start was clearly what this was _not_ meant to be. And Charles Carson was quite affronted by that, to say the very least. So affronted was he that his gentlemen had quieted immediately when he paused his own rehearsal in order to go properly investigate this disturbance.

_._

“Looks like Mrs. Butte is going to be back sooner than we thought.” Jimmy grumbled to Thomas, undoubtedly bored with the current proceedings.

Thomas merely glanced at his fellow singer, too curious about the whole situation to really pay Jimmy any attention for once.

Furthermore,

_“Give me this moment,”_

If Jimmy was sufficiently quiet.

_“This momentous moment,”_

He could actually hear the song.

_._

_“I’ll gather up my past,”_

“Wish we could sing like that.” Joseph Moseley confessed to his current companion, John Bates.

_“And make some sense at last,”_

Bates looked at him, thought about it for a moment, and tilted his head.

“But why can’t we?”

_._

He had reached the door just in time.

Charles Carson has been an expert in choir music for decades. By this point, he knows the general nature of a song. Therefore, he knows that he can still save the day _while_ still following his personal rules. For if he opens this door and puts a stop to this deviation within the next five seconds, they won’t have even made it into the chorus.

Now, why would that matter?

Well, one of his own little rules about singing is that one should never interrupt a song. It takes away from the style and the show, and is simply disgraceful to say the least. However, if one simply had to interrupt, one might as well do so before the chorus has begun. For the chorus is typically when the audience has fully immersed themselves into the piece.

So, if the chorus is unsung, there’s hardly a desire for proper resolution. There’s a disappointment from not being able to enjoy the musical possibility. However, the listeners have hardly become so enamored that they simply have to finish the song.

Therefore, he has to interrupt. And he has to do so before the chorus, has to follow his little rule as best as he can, because this is simply too much. He has to turn back into the stern choral director instead of the humoring teacher. The intimidating instructor, one who’s ready to put a stop to Mrs. Hughes’s silly tangent, instead of the unintentional accomplice. He has to bring them back to the main path at hand, has to focus them on their true priorities.

Because in such a tumultuous times, the students need to be absolutely focused.

For the beginning, especially the beginning of a choir’s journey, is always a tumultuous time. That would be because, simply put, it is within this time that the choirs will form their attitude for the rest of the semester.

And, if it is known that Mrs. Hughes showed this _without_ his permission, then he will undoubtedly lose the very respect he requires to create the success he is so known for.

_“This is the moment!”_

Now, how could he have gotten so caught up in making sure they didn’t stray from the path, that he actually allowed them to do so?!

_“My final test!”_ Charles looks up, thoroughly disappointed in himself and his inability to control what was--

_“Destiny beckons,”_

They’re all riveted.

_“I never reckon_

_Second best!”_

Stupefied to say the least.

_“This is the day,_

_Just see it shine!”_

Every single person in 403 has their eyes glued to the screen. The only one not held captive is Mrs. Hughes. And even he can tell that, though his fellow teacher may not be staring down that video, that wistful look and those misty eyes are just as connected to that song as all those penetrating stares before him.

_“When all I lived for,_

_Becomes mine.”_

_._

The director of the choirs at Downton Academy was not one to beat around the bush, this the teenagers currently residing in 402 knew quite well.

_“This is the moment,”_

So, when the video didn’t come to an immediate stop and when the sounds of a indignant lecture didn’t ring forth, they were confused to say the least.

_“This is the hour,”_

“Perhaps Mrs. Butte _isn’t_ going to be coming back quite so soon after all.” Thomas muttered, still captivated by the soloist now taking over in the other room.

_“When I can open up tomorrow_

_Like a flower.”_

_._

Sarah was almost gaping when she realized the conductor was the soloist.

_“And put my hand to_

_Everything that I planned to,”_

Conductors were _never_ soloists. Futhermore, she could hardly imagine Mr. Carson taking part in such an unorthodox set-up.

_“Fulfill my grand design,_

_See all my stars align.”_

Though, even she had to admit, it almost did seem a little cool.

But, only a little.

_._

_“This is the moment,”_

Even Mary was impressed.

_“Damn all the odds!”_

She had started a little at the unexpected cursing, which only brought her attention to the doorway. For there was a figure standing in the shadows that had jolted just as she did.

_“This day or never,”_

And, it was only after careful examination -- they really weren’t in sight at all, this mysterious figure -- that she realized it was Mr. Carson himself.

_“I sit forever,”_

Mary had wondered when he’d catch on to this silly little game the girls and Mrs. Hughes were now indulging in.

_“With the gods.”_

Oddly enough, she was somewhat hoping he wouldn’t lecture them for once.

_._

_“When I look back,”_

Anna couldn’t help but glance in the direction of the main choir room.

_“I will recall,”_

A new choir teacher, new interactions with this fascinating John Bates, it all seemed to be pointing towards an exciting change for the year.

But, with the swaying, thriving tones now filling the room, Anna couldn’t really focus on the possibilities.

She could only listen to the music at hand.

_._

_“Moment for moment,”_

The voices grew, flowing into an ocean of promise.

_“This was the moment,”_

The waves spun into spirals of gorgeous chords and vibrant sound, building into something far larger than just voice or mere sound.

_“The greatest moment of them all,”_

One section held a steady current of noise, pushing their wave of sound to maintain itself while the others raced on to grow into seas of potential.

_“The greatest moment,_

_Moment of them,”_

The sound grew once more, before finally crashing into brilliant resolution.

_“All.”_

_._

Charles was still in the doorway when the women and the men next door leapt to their feet to applaud the video.  
  
And, he, too, found himself unable to do anything other than quietly clap along with them.

The choir director couldn’t pretend that it wasn’t all very impressive. He also couldn’t pretend, for that matter, that the students before him weren’t properly captivated in musical endeavours -- quite honestly for the first time in _very_ long time.

And, so, all he could do was applaud.

_._

  
“Mrs. Hughes,” Elsie found herself once more under the piercing gaze of one Sarah O’Brien shortly after the video ended. “When can we do _that_?”


	5. Conversations and Interrogations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for your very kind support! And, if I haven't properly responded to your reviews, rest assured I will be soon!
> 
> Furthermore, in response to a particularly touching guest review on FFN - I certainly understand and agree that we need more teachers like Mrs. Hughes. And, I'm quite lucky to say I came across a professor like Mrs. Hughes. Had she not been so awesome, I probably wouldn't be writing this story.
> 
> In any case, here's to another chapter! This time, we've got more interaction with practically the entire ensemble and a reference to series 3. Enjoy!

"Now how did you manage to get into Mixed Chorus on your first audition?" Jimmy was sharp in his approach, clearly too frustrated with the situation to be try a smoother method. And, seeing as how it'd been more than a week since classes started, his original curiosity had only grown into an impatient fascination.

"As I said before," John Bates was also losing his patience - not that he had much for Jimmy in the first place. "I auditioned for Mr. Carson this summer and he told me to register for Advanced Mixed Choir."

"But, you normally have to go Beginner Men's Ensemble first."

"Yeah," Daisy recalled her own experience, much to her frustration. "And no girls ever make it past Beginner in their first year, no matter how good they are."

"So, you must be a good singer then." Alfred chimed in, unable to help himself.

Anna remained quiet throughout all of this, just watching their reactions.

"I cannot confess to being good. I can only say that Mr. Carson told me to register for Mixed Choir."

This irritated them, this blatant evasion. All he had to do was demonstrate for them, prove how good he was, and they'd leave him be. But, John seemed insistent on downplaying all of it - to the point where he wouldn't even sing for them.

But she didn't mind. She caught a hint of his voice when she accidentally overheard Mr. Carson voicing the guys. She already knew that he had the musical knowledge and the voice for Advanced Mixed.

Besides, as they had discovered last week, they didn't live all that far from each other. So, both Anna and John already had had the pleasure of talking on the walk back home.

_._

"So, how does it feel to be at Downton Academy, Elsie? Different than what you anticipated?"

"Beryl, I've hardly been here for more than two weeks! But, I suppose, it's been nice. Certainly more successful than I anticipated." The band director waited for any further elaboration. But seeing none after half a minute,

"Yes, I remember what you'd said the night before you started - I'd definitely say you've done well for yourself, and far better than you anticipated. But, 'nice'? Elsie, a treacle tart is nice,"

"Not when I attempt it-"

"Surely you've felt something more than just 'nice'?"

Elsie fixed her friend another look, sighing and thinking the whole thing over once again as she did so.

"Well, the students are lovely. There's a few impertinent ones who I know don't really want to be there, of course, but many are eager to learn. And a fair amount of them are far more interested in learning than we were at their age."

"They certainly are, aren't they?"

"Absolutely."

"So, how does teaching choirs compare to the life of being a soloist and everything that comes with that?"

"Knocks it all that out of the water. Something I only had an inkling of all those years ago, but it's true nevertheless."

"And only the students are nice?" Beryl's question was too cheeky for Elsie's liking.

"While I don't necessarily care for your impertinent tone," Beryl snorted at this, "I will say that it's been a long time since I've worked so closely with anyone quite like Mr. Carson."

"Of that I'm sure. But, the real question is: is that a compliment?"

Another look was thrown in the direction of her friend, a vexed look that was still belied by a smile.

"You know as well as I do that it's a compliment of the highest degree."

**_._**

"Tell me: what's new at Downton Academy?" Mr. Mason sat down at the old table with great energy, quite interested in what Daisy and William had to report.

"Well, as you know, we've got a new choir teacher." William said over his cup of tea.

"And, from what I've heard from my friends in the other choirs, she's absolutely brilliant. Showed them a video that even Mary Crawley couldn't stop talking about." William smiled, pleased that even though Daisy was in Bel Canto this year - instead of the Mixed Choir with everyone else - nobody left her out of the experience. "And, it really is a cool video when you watch it - they showed me at lunch."

"Oh? Care to share this 'cool video'?" Mr. Mason asked lightly, a twinkle of mirth appearing in his eyes.

"Of course!" "We wouldn't dream of anything else."

_._

"What do you think of choir? Of Mrs. Hughes and all that?" Sybil looked at her friend with something that had started as a smirk but quickly shifted into a full-blown smile. After all, she now she got to share a walk with Tom. Without her sisters anywhere nearby, to boot.

So, quite simply, Sybil felt the whole situation called for outright happiness.

"You already know what I think, Tom: the direction we're going in now is positively delightful!" He nodded at this.

"Agreed." Unfortunately, they wouldn't be able to talk about the subject for much longer: their paths were going to split in a few minutes. And, even though he wanted to keep the conversation going, he didn't want to possibly interact with her family today. "So, what does your family think?"

Sybil cringed, stopping their walk back to their respective homes for a moment.

"I think I'll be hearing all about it this evening. Granny and Cousin Isobel intend to dine with us." He snickered at this, causing her to demand "What's so funny?"

"You sound so posh when you say stuff like that - I just can't take you seriously" At her glare, he re-enacted a terribly high pitched version of, "'Granny and Cousin Isobel intend to dine with us' this evening, and I even have a new frock for the occasion!'"

Sybil frowned for a solid minute, before the tremors of glee overtook her lips and she busted up into snickers and snorts herself. She then drew herself up as tall as she could, through the laughter that is, and continued to speak in an overly dramatic tone.

"I am Lady Sybil Crawley, Daughter of Lord and Lady Grantham," She declared to Tom, who could hardly contain his laughter. "And I-"

"Sybil, what on Earth are you doing?" As luck would have it, Mary and Edith were beginning to catch up to the pair. Though Sybil and Tom hardly minded - they were too caught up in enjoying themselves to really care.

"Nothing, Mary," The youngest Crawley sister managed to get out after most of the giggles had left. "Nothing at all."

_._

It had been the second or third time he'd try to have this conversation with her. He honestly wanted to know her opinion on everything he could, something that was quite obvious in his questions. And _still_ she was insistent on the idea that, "I can hardly have an opinion on all the changes, Joseph, I'm only in the Bel Canto - not Advanced Mixed."

"Well, you're certainly going to be in Mixed next year, Phyllis. And, besides, the choir you're in does not make your opinion any less worthy."

She smiled softly at this, as they continued to walk home.

"I appreciate that, Joseph."

"And I," He paused, wondering if it would be too forward. But upon catching her curious gaze, he decided he could sweep this next statement under a platonic sentiment if anything. "I appreciate you, Phyllis."

Her smile grew at this, and he found the idea of being platonic was becoming overrated in this moment.

But, only in this moment. Give him another moment, the teen thought in a self-deprecating manner, and he'd be sure to want to go right back to just being friends. After all, why would someone like Phyllis like someone like him?

And, furthermore _why_ did he have to go and like his best friend like that in the first place?

_._

"Oh, Mr. Carson!" She had managed to catch him as he was leaving the building. "Do you have a minute?"

He looked a little frazzled, leading to a brief, "One minute, yes, Mrs. Bird."

"Only, I know that there's been quite a change for choirs this semester, and I was wondering if there is anything I could do to help?" She kept a particularly beady eye on his expression, masking her attentiveness under simple inquisition.

"Oh, there's hardly a need for that Mrs. Bird." She bit back a smirk at the hasty response, letting him continue, "Mrs. Hughes and I have it quite well in hand."

"Are you quite sure?"

"Quite sure, Mrs. Bird." He paused, his hands flittering about before they stilled themselves with a simple, "Good day to you, Mrs. Bird."

That is when Mr. Carson took his leave and continued out the door. She herself started heading out towards the exit after a minute, quite pleased with the brief conversation.

See, having known the choir director for almost the last decade, she knew his typical mannerisms. That meant she knew what he really meant when he pretended to hide behind his stuffy propriety and traditions.

Moreover, that also meant she knew when his gruffness came from professional pride and when it came from being flustered.

And, in this case, May Bird was tickled to say it was the latter that was currently driving her colleague. Furthermore, whether her fellow teacher knew it or not, this was obviously a flustered reaction that was absolutely brought on by one Elsie Hughes.

"I'm sure you and Mrs. Hughes do have it well in hand, Mr. Carson. I'm sure you do."

Just wait till she told Beryl about _this_ little conversation.

_._

Without a large dinner table to give everyone the space they deserved, dinner with Granny, Isobel, and Matthew was a little strained.

However, it wasn't just the spatial aspects that made the dinner a little tense.

"Cora, Robert, did you get a chance to meet the new voice teacher, Elsie Hughes?"

"Oh, honestly, Isobel,"

"I'm afraid I've not had the pleasure." "And I'm afraid my work with the hospital has been unusually busy as of late."

"I completely understand. Well, what do you think of your new choir teacher, ladies?" Matthew sat up a little bit at this, curious.

Now, Mary, of course, would have been the first to speak. However, Sybil was a bit more passionate about the conversation. Thus, she got the first word in.

"Mrs. Hughes is quite brilliant."

"Oh really?" Violet Crawley primly raised an eyebrow at this, if only mildly intrigued.

"Sybil has a point, Granny; Mrs. Hughes is rather effective at her craft."

"And she's certainly more than a match for Mr. Carson." Edith chimed in, encouraged by her sisters's remarks.

"Well, isn't that a relief." Since the remark was slightly less sarcastic than normal, Sybil considered it to be quite the win.

"Indeed, it is a relief. Honestly, I'm quite grateful we found her, all things considered."

"Yes, well, seeing as how _you_ were the one who found her, I'm sure you are."

"And, just what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Merely that," Sybil internally groaned at the start of more bickering between the two women. Edith merely focused on her food, smile fading faster than the sunlight. Matthew and Mary chose to share a brief look at this, while Robert and Cora seemed as though they'd rather not have had either women over for dinner.

All in all, quite a normal weekly family dinner for the Crawleys.


	6. Searches and Scandalous Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, the support is always welcomed! And, we’re starting to pick up in pace :-), Who’s ready for some a cappella fun?

"Heavens, no, I'm not interested creating a Glee Club, Mr. Carson. I'm simply interested in enriching the lives of our charges with an _a cappella_ sound." Because he uses “enriching” more often than she can count, so she can throw it back at him from time to time. “Besides, the ladies are picking up the pace rather well, surely they can handle learning a few more songs.”

“Yes, well, regardless of how well the ladies are picking up their pieces, Mrs. Hughes, I simply must protest. I have found in my time that _a cappella_ music really is just Glee Clubs and a scandalous attempt at sound that is somehow allowed to reign free in the world. So, you’ll forgive me if I don’t put much stock into what you’re planning to get the Advanced ladies -- of all singers -- involved with.” He had his back to her at this, and so missed her roll her eyes at such a backwards thought.

“Did you not approve of the Masters of Harmony when I played them for the ladies?”

“I’m not at all sure of what you mean.”

She paused, stiffening at his denial.

_You mean, you’re going to claim being unaware of such a moment? At the very least, you should’ve been able to hear the sound through those paper thin walls! And your boys_ **_did_ ** _applaud, too, you know! That, even_ **_I_ ** _could hear!_

For although Mrs. Hughes had gotten caught up in the fond memories that the video brought forth, she hadn’t been so lost in her reverie that she missed the thunderous applause from _teenagers_ of all people. After all, such approval was as common as snow in August.

But, unfortunately, it looked like Mr. Carson really was going to attempt to feign ignorance to it all, the daft man.

Well then. That just meant she’d have to try a different track, a different route of persuasion.

“Surely there’s something you’ve come across, in your many years of _choral_ _expertise_ ,” That last part is a bit too impertinent to be disguised as respect. But she’s past caring and he’s absolutely oblivious. “That didn’t sound like a ‘scandalous attempt at sound’?”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can recall, Ms. Hughes.” Though, the truth is that he hardly gave it a proper thought before responding. “Nothing at all.”

Elsie refrained from scoffing at this, choosing instead to nod thoughtfully and keep her not-so-polite words to herself for the time being.

_._

“I wonder if Mrs. Hughes will allow us to sing any proper solos this semester. Mrs. Butte never did.”

“Rose, as we’ve said before,” Even Sybil was losing a little of her famous patience when dealing with her cousin. “Solos are only performed in the spring. Besides, Mr. Carson is the one in charge of the music.”

“And he’s as likely as Mrs. Butte to allow a ‘proper solo’.” Edith intoned darkly.

“Well, I think there’s new opportunity with Mrs. Hughes! I’m sure things will be different with her around, listening to that song proved as such.” At this, the one girl who never cared to truly involve herself with her cousin’s schemes and ideas finally decided to insert her own opinion.

“I think, darling Rose, we’re in agreement for once.” After all, if she were going to speak in the first place, Mary simply had to have the last word

_._

“But, how did you actually manage not to get yelled at _and_ play the video? I’ve seen many students get lectured by Mr. Carson for far worse.”

“Mr. Carson is not the ruler of the land, Beryl, whether he knows it or not. And, they were interested in hearing what I had to offer. So, why shouldn’t I offer it and further _enrich_ their opportunities?”

They snickered together, safely ensconced in Beryl’s own “land” and therefore able to be quite candid with one another.

“So, do you think you’ll stick to the songs Mrs. Butte had selected? For the other choirs, that is.”

Elsie paused a moment before responding, giving her next words careful thought.

“Well, apparently, Mrs. Butte hadn’t been able to complete her selections before falling ill. So, even though Mr. Carson informed me she is beginning to recover, I’m afraid it’ll be up to me to fill in the gaps.”

Beryl snorted.

“Oh,” She began to deadpan. “What a shame.”

_._

“It’s not normally like this, is it?” John had somehow managed to cross paths with one Anna Smith today, and he was fully intending to take advantage of it. “How the choirs are ran at the Academy, that is.”

She snorted at his question, knowing fully well that he knew the answer already.

_._

Sticking to her word about refraining from changing every song selected and only filling in the gaps was something that was quite easy.

The real challenge for Elsie was convincing her fellow colleague that the students wanted this change. That they were willing to work more for it, and that said change was worthy of being implemented.

_._

When Google searches hardly availed any real answers about your new choir teacher, that usually meant it was time to go straight to the source.

“Do you have an appointment to meet with Mrs. Crawley?” The secretary coldly asked, not particularly interested in letting Thomas just pass by.

“Not officially, but--”

“If you do not have an appointment, then I cannot allow you to meet with her.”

Well, then. He’d make an official appointment.

_._

“Mr. Carson, I do believe that there has to be something in the _a cappella_ realm that would meet even your standards of repertoire.” He looked taken aback at this challenge, shuddering at the thought.

“I’m afraid I still can think of nothing Mrs. Hughes.”

“What if I find something within your own music library that could potentially meet such standards?”

He paused in his administrative tasks -- being the choir director wasn’t just conducting, playing piano, and picking music, you know -- and mets her penetrating stare with his own.

“If you can find even one piece in this library that even Mrs. Crawley would approve of, _and_ have it approved by the end of this week, I will consider allowing you the opportunity to perform that song.” Her eyes narrowed at this.

“That’s hardly a true consideration, let alone a fair guarantee, Mr. Carson.”

“Nothing in life is fair or even a guarantee, Mrs. Hughes.” And that was his position on the matter.

That is, until he saw her eyes suddenly narrow further into pure slits of vexation.

“Though, if Mrs. Crawley did approve, I’d also be willing to let you have free reign over selecting any other songs you’d like to incorporate.” She paused a moment, thinking over his hastily spoken amendment, before eventually responding.

“Can I have a few of your boys to work with? Or will you be further restricting my choices by reducing me to only female ensembles?”

They both knew that, although there was indeed a beautiful range of sound for women pieces, there were only so many notes that either gender could typically reach -- especially at such a young age. Which translates into male singers having a much larger repertoire to select from, just because they can sing _falsetto_ as well as notes as low as the second E on the piano.

In short, because they both knew the current vocal limits for female singers, Elsie’s new level of respect for the man was going to be dictated by his next few words.

And that was something that even Mr. Carson recognized.

_._

“Did you see how Mr. Carson was bossing around Mrs. Hughes today? I thought she was ready to explode and it’s only Week Three!” Although Andy was only in the Men’s Ensemble, he had always been apart of this friend group ever since he came to Downton Academy.

“Honestly, Andy,” Daisy shook her head in disbelief. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. Though, I do wish she’d let us know if we could ever be like _them_.” Ivy nodded, knowing as to who Daisy was referring to.

“Who’s this ‘them’ you’re talking about, Daisy?”

“Never you mind.” She wasn’t interested in reminding him about that video, seeing as how Andy didn’t seem particularly interested the first time she and Ivy -- another Bel Canto singer -- had brought it up.

Andy, seeing no support from his crush, tossed the question in the direction of their other mutual friend.“What do you think, William? Do you think Mrs. Hughes is gonna blow?”

William paused, debating about what he should actually say. On one hand, he was kind of on Andy’s side -- if that meant he liked Mrs. Hughes enough that he didn’t want to her to be ignored or bossed around by Mr. Carson. On the other hand, Daisy didn’t think it was that big of a deal and maybe she was right.

“I don’t know, really.”

“And does it really matter, Andy?” Daisy piped up again, looking at something on her phone. "It's not like Mrs. Hughes will be here after this semester."

“I guess not.”

Though, had Daisy and the others really thought it through, they’d realize just how important it is for their choir teachers to be united in matters. That, healthy conflict is good to challenge old traditions, but if there’s unnecessary tension that can destroy a choir.

Fortunately, while there may be conflict, it was hardly the sort of tension that would "destroy" everything.

_._

“Now, Elsie, he said that you needed the approval of Mrs. Crawley right?” They'd been chatting over tea while Elsie ranted about the whole situation.

“Yes.” Her friend muttered through gritted teeth, loathing the fact that she still had to talk Violet Crawley about all of this.

“Well, then, it’s quite simple isn’t it?”

Elsie stared at her friend in confusion, before realization swept the confusion away.

_._

“‘ _A cappella_ music really is just Glee Clubs and a scandalous attempt at sound allowed to reign free’, eh?” She hadn’t been impressed with that remark, not one bit. Nor had Mrs. Crawley, when Elsie finally explained the situation.

See, as she had started to explain to her students before, Glee Clubs hardly scratched the surface of _a cappella_ opportunity. And with a music library filled with hundred of pieces, there had to be at least one piece here that even Charles Carson would approve of.

“Wait a minute.”

As defiance and obstinacy continued to rise within her, a particular piece came to mind. One that suited the requirements and would absolutely win administrative approval.

And with further recollection, a fond memory sparked from a performance years past. A memory that instilled her with confidence that this would be a piece of cake to conduct, let alone sing.

But, she couldn’t teach from a memory. Not accurately and not effectively, at the very least. So, hopefully this old-fashioned school had the sheet music for it somewhere in this library.

“Surely _Downton Academy_ has to have such an _enriching_ piece?” But her heart was hardly in the old tease; Elsie was more invested in properly searching for the song. With that in mind, she pulled open the cabinets to start scanning the sheet music before her.

Now, Mr. Carson had personally explained his system on her first day here. But there had been quite a lot to process all around and so she didn’t remember everything. Not to mention, their accidental first meeting was unusual enough to distract her thoughts throughout that particular day.

“You couldn’t have just alphabetized the whole lot, could you?” But she wasn’t terribly bothered by his system -- it gave her more of an understanding of his character.

And it was alphabetized, in a sense. However, it was only alphabetized after being sectioned off into subcategories. French chansons, German lieder, English solo pieces, songs requiring an orchestra, choral selections, eight-part pieces, they all had their little sections in these cabinets.

And so with over two hundred songs filed away, there were _many_ sections to peruse.

Fortunately, it only took her about five minutes to get enough of an understanding to properly search. And it only took an additional ten to find what she was looking.

While John Rutter was not normally her first choice, it was a sweet and lovely piece. Furthermore,

“Yes,”

Elsie knew that even her curmudgeon of a choir director would be inclined to agree that this was a ‘worthy’ choice for their little army of choristers.

“This will do.”

All that was left now was to properly convince said curmudgeon

_._

“Now, before we begin, ” He was ready to give the same speech he’d been giving to each main chorus throughout the day. “I would like to announce an opportunity for you all.”

They all leaned forward in anticipation, much to his frustration. His students were typically filled with the most decorum and professionalism. His choirs themselves were usually packed to the brim with talented sight singers and gorgeous tonal quality at a moment’s notice.

And now? In this particular moment?

They currently resembled toddlers touching music for the first time.

“What is it, Mr. Carson?” Sybil innocently asked, as though she hadn’t been hearing of this particular opportunity from her friends in the other choirs.

“Simply put, Sybil,” He resigned himself to the same outcome that had occurred each time he got to this part: chaos disguised as innocent inquisition and curiosity. “If you are interested in an opportunity to practice _a cappella_ music in a more formalized setting, _and_ are content to give up your free time after-school on Mondays, Wednesdays _and_ Fridays,” For this was the deal he made with Mrs. Hughes. “You must inform Mrs. Hughes as such by the end of tomorrow.”

It was at this point that the woman with the request had regained their attention, stepping forth to finally speak.

“And, I promise you,” She softly smiled at the eagerness before her. “If you do decide to join, it will be a lot of fun.”

_._

They had all made up their reasons to their respective friends,

_“Oh, well, it has to be better than Mrs. Butte’s selections. I can drop it if anything.”_

_“I didn’t have anything to do on Fridays anyway.”_

_“Mrs. Hughes seems alright, maybe it’d be fun.”_

_“It’d be so worth it to prove Mr. Carson wrong. Because he’s absolutely wrong if he doesn’t think we should be doing this.”_

And so, by Wednesday evening, she had the administration’s approval, the song itself, and even a little army.

_._

“What do you think, Mrs. Patmore?”The band and orchestra director were heading out of the building together. Naturally, that created an interest in conversing together about certain subjects. “Do you think Mr. Carson will actually allow Mrs. Hughes to have any hint of free reign?”

  
“I think Mrs. Hughes is far stronger than she looks.” Isobel Crawley spoke out from behind them, causing both women to give a start. “And that Mr. Carson will be in quite for the semester if he doesn’t allow even a hint of change.”


	7. Eggshells and Auditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I had intended on having this segment be two separate chapters - which is why it's a bit lengthier than expected. However, upon further thought, I figured it'd be a nice little holiday treat to put these two together.
> 
> Also, I'm pleased to say I will be giving every chapter a proper title - to not only provide a better reference as to the plot, but also to add a bit more fun. And, if you'd like to know which particular version of this upcoming song I was inspired by, I'll give some details down below.
> 
> Enjoy!

Mr. Carson couldn't help but walk on eggshells when he arrived to the academy on Thursday.

On one hand, he was unwilling to subjected to the gaudy stuff of television series and movies.

On the other hand, he wanted to understand why Mrs. Patmore had said in passing that _a cappella_ music was Mrs. Hughes's specialty.

And, he really did want to know if she managed to obtain approval from _Violet Crawley_ of all people.

_._

The happy bounce to her keys as she entered the room told him everything.

"But, how on Earth did you manage to do it? How did you get her approval?"

The keys, still cheekily attached to her lanyard, came to a jangling stop.

"Did you really not believe that I could, Mr. Carson?" She was teasing, but there was a hint of steel in her tone. Sensing this, Charles tried a different track.

"Well, what will you be working on? What did you finally select?"

"Mr. Carson," She arched an eyebrow. "You told me I needed to get Mrs. Crawley's approval. You never said I had to run my final selection by you." He spluttered at this.

"Now, if you don't believe that she did actually agree, you're welcome to ring her up and check." She was already picking up the room's landline, handing him the receiver as she dialed the appropriate extension. He debated for a moment about whether or not this interruption was appropriate, but decided that all that mattered currently was seeing just how Elsie had managed to obtain the permission of one of the most traditional-minded people in the school.

" _Hello? Mr. Carson, is that you?"_ Isobel Crawley's voice crackled to life and in those few seconds all made sense to Charles. He scowled into the receiver, surprised that he'd allowed such a loophole to exist.

After all, he never specified _which_ Mrs. Crawley she had to obtain approval from.

"I do apologize, Mrs. Crawley," He sighed, looking back to see Elsie was barely withholding a smirk. Still, even if her lips remained firmly neutral, her eyes revealed the humor she was currently experiencing. "It appears I dialed the wrong number."

" _Oh, it's quite alright, happens all the time."_ She paused, before, " _Good luck with the new selections, Mr. Carson. I look forward to hearing them in person!"_

"Selections?" But Mrs. Crawley had already hung up the phone.

He turned to his colleague, whose keys were now absolutely silence and who was now looking anywhere but him.

"I may have accidentally mentioned wanting to put together an _a cappella_ choir, instead of getting approval for only one song."

… Why did this have to happen to him of all people?

_._

  
"Mrs. Hughes," Mary Crawley was one of the last people she expected to pay her a visit after-school. "May I have a word?"

"Certainly."

"It's just that Mama- that is, Mrs. Crawley, had wanted me to relay a request."

"Oh?"

"Yes. She wanted me to say," Mary paused, trying to recall her mother's exact words. "'When you've convinced Mr. Carson that this is indeed a worthy endeavour, you simply must incorporate _Journey_ into the show.'"

"I will certainly try my best to do as such." Mary smiled coldly at this, and Elsie felt as though there was still more to come from this particular Mrs. Crawley.

"She had a feeling you'd say as such, and also informed me that if you find your attempts are not quite successful, you are to highly consider asking for her assistance in the matter."

"Oh, I see." So, whether or not Mr. Carson approved, this school would be performing at least one song from _Journey_ at some point in the near future.

"I do believe you really do." And with the air of a lady, Mary strolled out of the room.

Only once the door properly closed to Elsie allow herself permission to roll her eyes and smile somewhat fondly.

_It's a good I'm already a fan of the idea. Not that I'd really have all that much choice._

_._

Come Friday afternoon, it was time to finally start preparing for the _a cappella_ 's "audition".

"I know I promised at the start that we'd have a bit of fun." Nodding heads looked up at her, still perplexed by the old-fashioned sheet music being passed out to them. "But, first, we have to prove to Mr. Carson that we all can afford to have that bit of fun."

"If we prove that to Mr. Carson, could we then sing _Journey_ , Mrs. Hughes?" Apparently, Cora Crawley wasn't taking any chances in regards to making her request known.

Not that Elsie really minded.

"If we prove ourselves to Mr. Carson in this matter, we _might_ be able to do Journey. If we can't this semester, we'll definitely do so in the next." Sybil seemed appeased by this, though Tom looked less than thrilled at the idea of performing music from _Journey_ of all bands.

As the music was almost fully passed out to the students, she took a moment to scan her current crowd. She already knew that for a fact that they weren't convinced that this would be worth it.

But, bless their hearts, they were willing to try.

"Now, I know I've been playing your notes out on the piano in our regular choirs. And, while that's we'll be doing for the next week or so, I want to introduce you to a marvelous invention: the pitch pipe." The round device sat proudly in her hand, having waited patiently to be played. "At the start of each song, this is how we'll communicate our pitches."

"How does it work, Mrs. Hughes?"

"Quite simply, Anna. I blow into the appropriate hole and-" At this, Jimmy and Alfred started cracking up into snickers. " _And_ ," They knew better to continue laughing with a tone like that and proceeded to shut up immediately. "You'll then hear the appropriate key, which will lead you to your respective pitches."

She gave them an A flat as an example, gently blowing into the pipe. After hearing the pitch carry throughout the classroom, they sat riveted.

"Now, I fully intend to show you how you can hear your parts just by listening to the pitch. But, if we're to impress Mr. Carson soon, we'll have to start learning our song with the piano first!"

_._

She had given him a week to become accustomed to the fact that he'd be listening to her choir in the near-future.

But when one week turned into two, and they were already beginning to pick it up so beautifully, she couldn't just let it rest.

"Mr. Carson, surely you're now ready to at least listen for _thirty seconds_ if not the full length?" They managed to arrive at the academy at the same time. That happenstance was something she took this as a sign that it was time to convince him to give her little choir a listen.

"Mrs. Hughes, I can assure you that I will drop by at some point in the future. I'm just not sure if my ears are quite up to the task just yet."

_Elsie Hughes, do not roll your eyes at this hopeless man. He may be a daft traditionalist who you currently want to throttle, but you cannot roll your eyes at him._

_._

"Are the two love-birds still bickering about what's 'appropriate' choral music?" Mrs. Patmore could hear the conversation as it carried itself up the stairs. She herself was running a bit behind and couldn't really afford to eavesdrop but, still, she had to ask.

"Love-birds?" Mrs. Bird snorted at this, even though she still found herself in agreement about the rest of the statement. "Well, they're hardly that now are they?"

Mrs. Patmore chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Quite right you are, Mrs. Bird, quite right."

_._

Now, it was true that Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes prided themselves on their level of professionalism. That they never cared to bring unnecessary personal feelings into work matters.

Still, when there was a work matter that inherently involved personal feelings, it couldn't always been hidden under a mask of professionalism. Sometimes, it led to an unresolved tension of sorts. Much to the point where even teenagers would take note of it.

Not only that, said tension was strong enough that a boy who was normally timid when it came to dealing with authority figures now felt that it was his responsibility to stay after school and question said authority figures about it.

_._

"Mr. Carson?"

"Yes, William?" 

"Do you really think we'll sound _that_ bad? Is that why you won't listen to us?"

The choir director paused, honestly shocked by such a question. It was certainly not his intention to imply that he thought they would be abysmal or some equivalent. 

The problem was, Mr. Carson didn't know how to properly explain that it wasn't about their sounding bad or good. Rather, it was about the uncertainty of going down this path. It was about the odd feeling he got every time he heard that particular set of keys come down the halls, keys attached to a specific lanyard. It was about how that peculiar feeling didn't work well in his established world of tradition, precision and propriety. Furthermore, it was also about having the strange urge to humor his new coworker in her peculiar musical interests, an idea that informed Charles Carson that he had absolutely no way of properly handling the situation without it somehow spilling into untested waters.

"Mr. Carson?" Upon realizing that he'd never answered the boy, he felt a flustering air take over his words.

"It's not that, no."

William waited a minute, the patient lad that he was. But even patient teenagers were still teenagers at that. And, so,

"Then, why won't you listen to us, Mr. Carson?"

The man sighed at this, taking a minute to think over his response. Upon finding that he still couldn't explain himself, he took the coward's way out:

"I'm not really sure."

_._

"Mr. Carson, surely you can spare _five minutes_ to give my students a listen." She brought out the big cannons by finally throwing caution to the wind and making this request in front of his precious Advanced Mixed Choir. At the sound of this request, about one hundred teenagers focused their piercing stares at the man before them. And if that wasn't intimidating enough, he could tell she herself was truly reaching the limit of her patience. That soon enough she would simply start her own rehearsals and outright ignore his opinion in this matter.

It only took a minute for him to break.

"Mrs. Hughes, seeing as how it is a Wednesday, I presume you will be rehearsing with your chorus after school?"

"Quite correct, Mr. Carson."

"Then, in that instance, I suppose I can find the time to drop by." Several students started grinning, regardless of whether or not they were in the _a cappella_ ensemble. "But, only a few minutes, mind you."

The voice teachers held each other's gaze for another moment, and he couldn't help but admire her widening smile at his capitulation - even amidst this somewhat embarrassing scene.

"Thank you for that." He paused a moment at the gratitude, before nodding to himself and returning to the choir at hand.

"Now, we will take a five minute break and then we're going straight into 'O Come All Ye Faithful'. And if there is a _single_ phone out at the end of the break, 'How Lovely Is Thy Dwelling Place' will be the only piece we work on for the rest of the week!"

_._

"Can you believe it? Mr. Carson will be dropping by to hear us today!"

"It's about time!"

"Wait - _Mr. Carson_ will be dropping by to hear us today."

"I take it back - it's too soon! We're not ready!"

_._

Before anyone knew it, it was time for the _a cappella_ rehearsal.

They had all nervously entered the room, taking note that Mr. Carson was already in the room and they hadn't even warmed up recently. Fortunately, Mrs. Hughes came to the rescue:

"Mr. Carson," She approached her fellow colleague, "Perhaps you'll allow me the honor of warming my students up before they perform for you?"

It was a tad blunt, but she was becoming impatient with him as of late. And he found, in this particular instance, it was probably well-deserved.

"If you insist, Mrs. Hughes."

_._

Once all her dear students were warmed-up and appropriately organized in their places, only taking a few minutes instead of the usual ten, Elsie invited her colleague back into the room. She then blew the pitch for a full three seconds, prayed to the God above that this would go well, and raised her hands to start them off.

"' _Twas on a Monday morning,_

_And there I saw my darling,"_

She could feel Mr. Carson give a slight start at the sound so gracefully brought forth by the men in her little group.

And seeing as how he couldn't see her face from this angle, she couldn't resist an encouraging smile - they were already off to a decent start, after all.

" _She looked so neat and charming_

_In every high degree,"_

It was time for the ladies to take over and join in on the fun. Oh, if only Elsie was able to look over and see just how far his jaw was probably dropping. 'Scandalous sound' was hardly emanating from her army of choristers.

" _She looked so neat and nimble-o_

_A-washing of her linen-o"_

One of her favorite parts of singing in general was now coming together: the blending of an effective mixed chorus. Something her little group was just beginning to get comfortable with, but was already doing so well with.

" _Dashing away with the smoothing iron,_

_Dashing away with the smoothing iron,_

_Dashing away with the smoothing iron_

_She stole my heart away."_

She allowed them to crescendo ever so slightly, letting the harmony carry forth as her hands maintained a steady beat.

"' _Twas on a Tuesday morning,_

_And there I saw my darling,_

_She looked so neat and charming_

_In every high degree."_

The echoes within the parts rang out, the voice blended further, and Elsie would swear she heard a slight inhalation of admiration coming from her right.

" _She looked so neat and nimble-o_

_A-hanging of her linen-o._

_Dashing away with the smoothing iron,_

_Dashing away with the smoothing iron_

_She stole my heart away."_

The energy kept going, bouncing back and forth between conductor and student as they carried on into the middle of the week.

"' _Twas on a Wednesday morning,_

_And there I saw my darling,_

Pale hands split the sounds into separate parts: one directing the overall flow while the other guided the staccato-like sound that was accompanying the harmonious foundation.

_She looked so neat and charming_

_In every high degree."_

The foundation supported the lilt currently embracing the melody, and soon Elsie found herself thinking of nothing else but the sound in front of her. Her colleague's presence was forgotten in favor of following this stunning procession of music.

" _She looked so neat and nimble-o_

_A-starching of her linen-o,"_

This was truly one of the best moments of conducting: watching her students begin to lose themselves in the music and truly let their voices shine as one.

" _Dashing away with the smoothing iron,_

_Dashing away with the smoothing iron,"_

Time to build them further up and bring them into the realm of _mezzo-forte_ bordering on pure _forte._

" _She stole my heart away!"_

Mrs. Hughes grinned, remembering how she motivated them and what perspective she gave them when they were first starting out this piece:

Upon Daisy's face at the look of dismay when reading off all those days, Elsie was reminded of the brilliant idea of having them feel as though, with each day they sang through, it was just like a regular school week - creating more and more excitement until they reached the weekend.

"' _Twas on a Thursday morning,_

_And there I saw my darling,_

Now, to bring them back to a more even keel, a softer _mezzo-forte_ than before - it wouldn't work to give Mr. Carson a heart attack.

_"She looked so neat and charming._

_In every high degree._

_She looked so neat and nimble-o_

_A-ironing of her linen-o,"_

Like the flow of the river, she getting them round the bend and preparing them to smoothly rush into crashing waves once more.

" _Dashing away with the smoothing iron,"_ The women chorused

_Dashing away with the smoothing iron,_ " The men dutifully followed, before they joined together once more.

" _Dashing away with the smoothing iron she stole my heart away!"_

And now it was time to take note of the sopranos and altos in the crowd, as they allowed themselves free range to float above the crowd as the lads took over the melody.

"' _Twas on a Friday morning,_

_And then I saw my darling,_

_She looked so neat and charming_

_In every high degree."_

" _She looked so neat and nimble-o_

_A-folding of her linen-o."_

Lately with this piece, Elsie could conjure up a world of linen and irons within the sopranos lilts, a life of washing and service spurred on by the staccato sections. A life filled with hard-work embroidered with major chords and pristine projects meticulously organized by the key of F#.

" _Dashing away with the smoothing iron,_

_Dashing away with the smoothing iron,"_

She absolutely preferred what she had right in front of her in every way.

" _She stole my heart away."_

And, now they were getting into the climax of the piece: the part where she needed them to commit just as much as they did in the beginning.

"' _Twas on a Saturday morning,_

_And there I saw my darling,_

_She looked so neat and charming_

_In every high degree!"_

"We're almost there!" She mouthed encouragingly to everyone in front of her, receiving even brighter beams in the nervous eyes of her singers. Everyone was doing great, and they just needed to continue doing so for about forty more seconds.

" _She looked so neat and nimble-o_

_A-airing of her linen-o,_

_Dashing away with the smoothing iron,_

_Dashing away with the smoothing iron,"_

They were managing the echoes and ripples within their ranks quite beautifully. And, even if Mr. Carson did in fact shut it all down because he just wasn't satisfied, she would still be quite proud.

" _She stole my heart away!"_

And, now it was time to let all that building expand into the final section of the piece:

"' _Twas on a Sunday morning,_

_And there I saw my darling!"  
She looked so neat and charming_

_In every high degree!"_

She couldn't risk a glance away from them now, not when they were so close.

Not that she was even thinking of looking anywhere but in front of her.

Now it was time for the sweeping movement, for the voices to curve through the air as though the sound could and would happily spin around the space.

" _She looked so neat and nimble-o,"_

Now was where they would slow to a beautiful crawl, following her pace while still maintaining that powerful sound.

_A-wearing of her linen-o."_

She allowed one small moment of respite, hands hovering in the air before gently stirring them back into vigorous - yet soft - action.

" _Dashing away with the smoothing iron,"_ The ladies grinned.

" _Dashing away with the smoothing iron,"_ The gentlemen glowed.

And she happily cued them into their final harmonious chords, letting them build into _mezzo-forte_ one last time.

" _Dashing away with the smoothing iron,"_

They robustly held out the notes one last time, dedicating time to solidly building upon the music before cheekily finishing off the song as softly as possible.

_She stole my heart away!"_

_._

Silence filled room 403 as Mrs. Hughes's _a cappella_ ensemble came to a stop.

Silence that was soon tossed aside in favor of a enthusiastic applause coming from only Mr. Carson.

Elsie jumped at the unexpected sound, shocked beyond belief and still caught up in all of the adrenaline that came with conducting such a moment. But, once her brain put two and two together, she could only proudly smile and turn to her fellow colleague.

"Thank you, Mr. Carson." For that applause could only mean one thing.

"No, Mrs. Hughes," Charles said, smiling quite proudly himself. "Thank _you_."

She smiled further at this, applauding her own little chorus. It hadn't been perfect, but was it ever perfect?

Perfection was overrated in her opinion, and it was with this thought are the forefront of her mind that she noticed someone lurking right outside the door to 403.

"And I may say thank you to all of you for such wonderful effort." Mr. Carson was now speaking to her little army, pulling Elsie back to her beaming students - students who looked so relieved. "I look quite forward to hearing what else you'll be preparing for the concert."

Almost none of her volunteering choristers could resist grinning at that, happy to have received such outright praise from Mr. Carson.

However, Elsie's attention was drawn away once again as she heard a creak coming outside of the classroom. Only, there was no longer anyone outside. She stared for a moment, thinking it over in her head - not believing that she actually saw the person she thought she saw.

"I can't believe we did it," Daisy couldn't help but remark in awe, bringing the _a cappella_ teacher out of her thoughts.

"Now, we've still got a lot of work to do if we want to perform other songs for the concert." The woman couldn't help but warn, not wanting them to become arrogant from this praise. It did the job in focusing the energy of the room. "Still, you all did a wonderful job for today. And, so, we're going to call it a day earlier than normal."

The grins were back.

"Just make sure to come prepared to sing for our next rehearsal. For I will have new music for you, of that you can be sure." Edith began to speak up at this, "And, as I said before, _Journey_ will not be making an appearance in the winter concert - but I'll be sure to make sure Mr. Carson knows we will be incorporating it into the spring's."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The specific version that I'm enamored with can be discovered with these words: "Dashing Away with the Smoothing Iron Choir avi". It should be the first option, featuring the VA Tech Chamber Singers!
> 
> And, one last question for now: would you like me to explain some of the music terms used? I'm happy to do so, just let me know.
> 
> In any case, have a great day!


	8. Raindrops and Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just have to say, as always, it is a pleasure to have such sweet support. The reviews, favorites, and follows are such a wonderful treat to experience.
> 
> We're going to take a quick break from singing in this chapter. Instead, we get to experience some fluff, some character/relationship development, a hint of a future plot point ;) :) There's also a tribute to some of my favorite FFN Chelsie pieces in this chapter, as well as one of my favorite scenes from the show :)
> 
> Now, without further ado, here's the next installment!

After she had Mr. Carson's approval, Elsie had proceeded to pour over all aspects of the music library she could. She had her own ideas on what was appropriate and what the school would love, of course. But, in order to obtain further approval and make sure that this choir remained long after she left in the spring, the music needed to be absolutely perfect.

So much so was Elsie's need for perfection that Beryl banned her from coming into the band room if she held even one sheet of music. Not only that, the Band Director had also forbade her from running suggestions by her until the winter concerts were over - and that hadn't really been a request made in jest.

But, fortunately, after a fairly short amount of time, the choir teacher had found two more lovely selections for the _a cappella_ group. And only one of which would require buying new sheet music out of pocket.

Luckier still, during the search for appropriate music, Elsie had also found a spot within the school that afforded her some much needed peace and quiet.

_._

It had been just another ordinary lunch break for him - most of his colleagues in the music department converged to gossip in the band room whilst he focused on going over some of the more "tedious" aspects of teaching. There was a lovely hint of October rain pit-pattering down the window. Accompanying that, the cozy temperature within 402 kept him comfortable. Moreover, the sound of pen on paperwork made for a very soothing afternoon respite.

And, yet, something seemed to be missing.

There was some aspect currently not present, something important enough to be noted even if that specific "something" couldn't be explained.

_But, that's enough of that._ These forms weren't going to fill themselves out after all. And these correspondences would never be complete if he was caught in his reverie.

And, so Mr. Carson returned to his work station. And continued to work.

And was also bothered by the fact that _something_ was missing and he couldn't figure out just what.

_._

It turns out that even Charles Carson had his limits when it came to bureaucracy.

And, so, when the thrall of paperwork left him alone for the day, he unintentionally entered a crossroads of decisions. Did he,

1\. Finally drop by Mrs. Patmore's and endure inevitable ridicule in order to obtain some cheap form of entertainment?

2\. Go back to the endless forms and emails, and just submit himself to the tedious bureaucracy that seemed to chain every member of the staff?

3\. Tidy up his desk for the fifth time that week?

4\. Take a quick walk around the room to "inspect" the space he knew so well?

It only took Mr. Carson a moment of fidgeting with his hands to realize that he actually wanted to go with Option 4. And, so, it was with an air of curiosity that he drew himself up to his fullest height and attempted to meander purposefully around the beautiful room.

For 402 was really quite a beauty. Able to sit 200 students easily, the floor plan was simple: in lieu of portable risers, 50 black chairs were placed on their own equivalent of permanent risers. Each row had its own platform that allowed the performers to have stage practice without requiring those pesky portable risers. And, to not only complement the beautiful set-up but also remind students of Downton's potential, the sides of the room were adorned with trophies from previous years of choir competitions. Moreover, proudly standing guard over the two entrances to the room were the original choir uniforms that had been worn almost a century ago.

The voice director knew every centimeter of this space by heart. Could tell if the students had been rowdy or anxious just by glancing at the chairs. Knew where the singers dared to lounge about during breaks simply by looking at where the dust now laid. He could even see if anyone had been staring out the windows during class - doing so always left an unintentional tilt of the chair.

Which reminded Charles -- though he would never officially condone looking out the windows, he could certainly understand the appeal.

The decades old windows stretched across the length of the room, almost matching the height of the back wall. Hardly any space was left for the demure white wallpaper that complemented the powerful glass panes. It made for an entrancing sight, one that hinted of the possibilities waiting just outside.

What a view it provided, too! Although the stormy skies outside were making it a bit difficult to appreciate the "secret" garden, the garden that accompanied the only courtyard within the school, it certainly made for quite a treat. Moreover, even though now was most certainly not the time to be outside-

"Hold on," Mr. Carson unintentionally gave a start, fixated on the silhouette staring up directly into the storm. Much to his surprise, he thought he recognized that silhouette.

And after a moment he realized he did indeed.

_._

She thought the timing was perfect - the skies properly opened themselves up to her just as she had taken her customary seat in the courtyard garden. And, after a few moments of being caressed by the watery whispers of the clouds, Elsie felt more alive than she had in weeks.

And with no music sheets to protect, she could stay outside for as long as she wished.

In short, it was heavenly.

The brisk air embraced her with great ease. The raindrops practically floated from the sky into her arms. And, above all, it was finally _wonderfully_ quiet. No well-meaning students accidentally interrupting her only lunch break, no pithy remarks from Beryl, and no endearing blustering from Mr. Carson.

For, as much as Elsie's loved all of that, she's also wanted just a few moments of glorious silence. Just a few moments to collect herself in such wonderful weather-

"Mrs. Hughes," Blue eyes opened to reveal surprise at the indignant tone that never accompanied her here. "What are you doing?"

Surprise turned into some form of amusement and frustration.

"I'm letting myself live a little, Mr. Carson," She dryly responded to her colleague as he continued scurrying through the stone pathways -- trying his best to quickly make his way over to the bench she currently occupied.

"Living a little?" Outright disbelief emanated from that one word, and she closed her eyes - summoning back her patience.

"Yes."

They stood in silence for an astonishing fifteen seconds before she could sense, just from hearing his hands fidget, that more disdainful words were coming from the confused man.

"But, suppose you catch a cold," He warned, scowling at the lack of care she was showing her body by being out in such hazardous conditions.

Elsie couldn't help but let out a laugh at this, opening her eyes to gaze up at the sky once more.

"Suppose some thunder goes off again, suppose lightning strikes us where we are," She turned her gaze from the clouds to him, eyes beaming with utter enjoyment as she offhandedly gestured to the empty space beside her. "You're free to join me. Then we'll both be drenched together."

Well, after a minute, it became clear that she was not going to budge from her spot. Not only that, another revelation made itself known:

Even Mr. Carson could recognize a lost cause.

Especially when it was staring at him with such captivating eyes.

"I think I will join you." For though his clothes were already sodden, he wasn't going to leave a fellow colleague out in this weather, after all. "It might make some of this feel not quite so heavy."

That was one of things he never cared for when it came to the rain - the sopping, distastefully burdensome weight that sank into your clothes if you were outside for too long. It certainly lessened the appeal of rain for him.

"You can always join me if it makes 'this' not so heavy."

He paused, unsure of exactly what she was speaking of. He had been merely talking about the persistent raindrops embedding themselves into his clothes.

What she appeared to be speaking of seemed to be more than just the rain.

"I don't know how, but," His glance took him back to the garden in an effort to avoid making this any more awkward - though, admittedly, he still observed her out of the corner of his eye. "You've managed to make that sound a little risque."

Another hint of laughter rang forth, happily bouncing along the stone walls surrounding this little secret garden of theirs.

"And if I did?"

Elsie looked as though she wanted to say more, but she remained silent. Charles himself had no proper response for her question, for he was still processing her remark from earlier. And, as the time within this little moment past, it almost seemed like the droplets themselves were coaxing the two to slowly close the space between them. They remained a professionally safe distance, mind, but for a moment it was almost as though-

Thunder boomed across the sky, harshly striking through the garden and startling the both of them.

"I do believe 'living a little' will have to wait, Mrs. Hughes." He was already back on his feet and offering her a hand as the rain began to mercilessly plummet on the pair. She almost protested, for now it was a proper thunderstorm. And encountering a proper thunderstorm tended to be the best part of these outdoor adventures.

Still, with a simple, "Your current _a cappella_ efforts might be delayed if we stay out much longer." he was already guiding her back into the building.

_._

"But, Mr. Carson, rain is hardly going to cause any sort of 'damage'." William perked up as he heard Mrs. Hughes's voice carry itself up the stairwell - followed by the sounds of water dripping from sodden clothes and squeaky shoes.

"I just don't want you getting ill."

In all of his time at Downton Academy, William could not recall Mr. Carson sounding quite so… concerned. Or, at least, William hadn't heard his teacher sounding concerned quite like that. He's heard the director worry, he's caught the tone of irritation and vexation, but never this shade of concern.

The teen took a few steps back from the entrance of 402, knowing that he had about a minute before the two choir teachers made it up the stairs and into the hallway he currently stood in. Honestly, he was relieved their voices echoed up the stairs: it was a flustering moment to hear them interact in such a fashion - it almost felt like he'd be interrupting an intimate moment between his parents.

Now, William did still want to ask Mrs. Hughes's a question - though really it was more about having something to do during his lunch period rather than real curiosity. Still, it no longer felt right to interrupt her conversation with Mr. Carson. Rather, he felt it more prudent to go back into the other stairwell, the one that his teachers were not currently traversing, before waiting for an appropriate to step back into the hallway and "accidentally" cross paths with them.

All in all, his plan was undoubtedly more complicated than it needed to be.

But, judging from Mrs. Hughes's response to Mr. Carson's concern - a response that definitely sounded like something his own mum would've said around his dad, were she still around - his current plan was probably the best plan.

_._

They made it back to the office, still absolutely entrenched in the weather's watery gifts. But, rain or no, they were back just in time to receive a visitor.

"William?" Mr. Carson hadn't expected anyone to drop by during one of the lunch periods, let alone a student.

"Hi, Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes." Let it never be said that William carried bad manners. Far from it, in fact.

"Is everything alright, William?" The teen smiled shyly at this.

"I just had a question for Mrs. Hughes." She tilted her head inquisitively, nodding to give permission. "Well, it's just that I was wondering if all the music for the _a cappella_ choir has been selected?"

"Why? Did you have a suggestion?"

"Oh, no. Not for this semester, in any-" He trailed off, having forgotten that Mrs. Hughes was only supposed to be substituting for Mrs. Butte for this semester only. She weakly smiled at this.

"Well, I can tell you that most of the music for this semester has been selected. But, if you have any suggestions, I'll be glad to hear of them." He fixed his gaze on the floor, even more flustered than he had been upon entering. And, for once, Mrs. Hughes seemed unable to properly reassure him.

_Well, that just won't do._

"I'm sure that if Mrs. Butte is agreeable to maintaining the _a cappella_ choir, she will be more than happy to listen to any future suggestions you have, William." Both Elsie and William did a double take - she was shocked at his unexpected support and he was taken aback by the idea of Mrs. Butte being in charged of that choir.

"Thank you, Mr. Carson," William managed to say, "I appreciate that."

"You're quite welcome. Now, was there anything else we could do for you?"

"No, Mr. Carson. I'll just be on my way."

And with that, the teen quickly left the room.

Charles shared a look with Elsie, confused as to why William had been so shocked.

"Never you mind, Mr. Carson," She responded, having recognized the question in his face and certainly not needing him to ask it right now."Never you mind."

And, for a few seconds he tried his best to heed her advice. But, William's question reminded him of something he was forgetting. Something that wasn't willing to be recalled, but something of vital importance.

All he could currently remember, amidst the fogginess that the rain had brought forth, was that it involved the choirs and Mrs. Butte.

Or... did it involve the choirs and _Mrs. Hughes_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those curious about the references, there were some moments from Series 3 and 4 embedded into this chapter. For example, the beach scene -- one of my favorite moments -- as well as a few moments during the cancer health scare.
> 
> And, in regards to the fanfiction, there are several rainy stories I love on this site. In this particular instance, the inspiration absolutely goes to "Wet" by Lavender and Hay.
> 
> Finally, I hope you enjoyed this and have a lovely day! Till next time :)


	9. Solos and Simple Requests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anything else, Happy and Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it! I hope everyone’s having a lovely day. As a present, whether you celebrate or not, this chapter is extra lengthy!
> 
> Thank you once again for all the support! And, in case you didn’t catch the updated Author’s Note in the previous chapter -- I accidentally forgot to publish an earlier chapter. Therefore, if you’re craving ensemble interaction, learning more about our leading heroine, and a hint of mischief, check out “Conversations and Interrogations”. Should be Chapter 5!
> 
> Also, in response to a guest reviewer -- I certainly can agree that water has quite the impact. In regards to that “forgotten” something, I’m afraid we’ll just have to wait and see ;) :)
> 
> And, now, let’s get back to the music!

“Mrs. Hughes!” She had boxes of overflowing decorations held in her arms. Tinsel of all colours, garland that snaked out the boxes, lines of “fairy” lights intertwined with the contents, even fake holly and mistletoe seemed to be packed away in the containers she now carried.“It’s hardly Christmas, now is it?”

“Mr. Carson,” Elsie began, taking him out of his reverie and bringing him to grab at least one box from her. “I noticed that closet in 403 is completely empty. Surely we could be putting it to good use by storing some decorations for the concert.”

“But, Mrs. Hughes,” She ducked out of his reach, determined to hold onto to every one of the boxes she held. “We  _ don’t  _ decorate for our concert.”

“What do you mean, you don’t decorate?” It was a question that bordered on an impolite tone. However, he supposed one would be impolite when one’s carting around so many boxes for who knows how long. “Why on Earth do you  _ not  _ decorate?”

Fortunately, fortunately for his chivalry that is, she allowed him to get the doors. 

“We don’t decorate because--” He could feel her eyebrow raise at this pause, awaiting his response, even though she was still hidden by those boxes. “Because it is simply unnecessary.”

“Is it now?” 

He sighed, having the urge to roll his eyes -- just like he’s caught her doing from time to time. And, with her back now to him, he decided to humor the urge.

He even stuck his tongue out for good measure. 

‘Where did you even get all of this, Mrs. Hughes?”

**_._**

_ “The Shepherd’s heard the Angel’s cry,” _

_ “A merry song that night sung he.”  _

_ “The Shepherd--” _

“No, no, that’s not quite right!” 

The choir fell into a hush as Mrs. Hughes brought her hands to her sides. She wasn’t frustrated, but the song was lacking and that much was clear.

But, she wasn’t one to stop them in the middle of a piece. Stopping in the middle of a section, that was fine and dandy. 

Halting them in the middle of a lyric was not quite her style.

“Who are you in this piece?” At this, they were simply confused.

“Students?” Came Daisy’s hesitant response.

“While it is true that you are indeed students, I’d like to who know you are when singing this song.”

“Do you mean to say who we are in regards to the context of the piece?” Edith asked from her section.

“Close. Context and your relation to it  _ is  _ important to keep in mind -- it helps you to understand the song even more. But, what I’m asking is something that’s a little different.

“Essentially, what is your driving force to perform this? What are the thoughts that push you to sing these words?”

They continued to blankly stare at her, absolutely silent in that typical fashion of teenagers.

“We can easily stop rehearsing today if nobody has an answer to that.” Sybil immediately began to open her mouth, “That is, nobody who doesn’t normally speak up.”

The youngest of the Crawley sisters closed her mouth and proceeded to look around the room.

“Well,” Gwen Dawson, a Second Soprano from Bel Canto, began to speak. “I like how there’s an echo within the parts. And it’s a traditional song, but I haven’t heard this version before. Makes it different.”

Elsie smiled at this short and sweet response. 

“I certainly do prefer this one to Mathias’s. And, I like the echo myself. ” She confessed, sharing a smile with Gwen. “Anyone else?”

After a few moments, one student remarked that he liked the use of Latin in this arrangement -- instead of just singing it all in English. Another soon spoke of how she enjoyed the big crescendo from everyone after the sopranos get their own form of a solo.

Soon, the whole group was becoming energized. Similar lines of thought were being thrown out, other ideas explored. And, after about ten minutes of discussion, Mrs. Hughes called for their attention once more.

“Now that you’ve taken note of why you enjoy singing this in the first place, I want you to look at one another’s faces. What do you see?”

  
  
Silence fell once more, and Elsie refrained from rolling her eyes at the now blank stares re-emerging from the crowd.

“Well, it’s not there now,” Her voice coaxed some sheepish smiles. “But I do believe it is returning.”

“Is it our smiles?” Sybil Crawley was not only kind, she was rather bright.

“Yes. While you were speaking of why you liked the song, you all glowed and smiled far more than I’ve ever seen from any of you while singing.” This brought some nervous chuckles, but she wasn’t done speaking. “And guess what?”

After about half a minute of silence, she decided to let them get away with not guessing this time.

“Your smiles are just as wonderful as your voices. And, in some ways, your facial expressions and stage presence are more important than your voices.” 

Blinks and dropping jaws greeted her now, and this time she really had to stop herself from looking up towards the ceiling -- in an attempt to ask for further patience -- before continuing on.

"When I was asking you earlier about 'who you are' in this song, I was referring to the fact that you are almost always storytellers with singing. And with storytelling comes the importance of not only singing with intention, but also showing said intention in your face and body.

“Let me show you what I mean.” Elsie met all of their stares willingly, “If I were to sing like this,"

She let her shoulders slump, had her face fall into a bored sort of look, and even tilted her chin towards the ground for good measure before singing.

_ “The shepherds heard the angel’s cry,”  _

It was a flat and droopy cry for what was normally a hushed whisper.

_ "A merry song that night sung he.”  _

Personally, the “merry song” seemed more dull and banal than anything. Not only did her voice reflect a "zombie" like quality that was accurate but sounded like a flat tone, her posture simply held no excitement or anything for her audience to absorb.

Upon looking up at her students again, she could tell they were both taken aback and faintly amused by her rendition.

“Beautiful, am I right?” Was the sarcastic, rhetorical question that brought forth a few snickers. 

“On the other hand, if I were to sing like so,”

Her back straightened will practiced ease, her head raised into a balanced position as her eyes glowed with a much stronger determination. And within her jawline, she now carried a hint of mirth as she began to bring forth intentional, accurate notes.

_ “The shepherd heard the angel’s cry,” _

She allowed the note to flow just a bit more than the previous version, as though her voice were carried by a powerful, purposeful wind. It had forward motion, it had delightful control and, for the soft dynamic, it sounded as clear as a bell.

_ “A merry song that night sung he.” _

A whisper, it still was. 

A weak and wispy version of the lyric, it no longer could pretend to be.

“Now,” She retrieved her pitch pipe from her pocket, “You try to mimic me. And, yes, you can even try singing with my brogue if it helps.”

It didn't to sing with the brogue.

But it did provide immense amusement and more energy when they chose to sing the section once again.

_._

  
  


They’d accidentally crossed one another’s path by pure accident -- simply waiting for their friends in the same location after school.

But, after a minute of awkward silence, Sybil found she couldn’t help but ask Thomas just one thing.

“I don’t know why you don’t just come to our rehearsals -- it’s just the sort of thing I think you’d like.” She can’t help but confess, after it’s clear that no one they’re waiting for will be arriving anytime soon.

“You really think so?”

She doesn’t respond to his sarcasm with her own -- instead, she looks at him imploringly.

“Really.” Her earnest remark, combined with the accepting air she almost always managed to carry, made it difficult to throw a scathing response together. So, he settled for something that wouldn’t be as eloquent, but would certainly sting.

“I don’t see why any of this is your business. Or why you believe you have any right to talk to me like this.” Her eyes narrowed a bit, and Thomas finally thought he got the Crawley sister to just leave him alone. 

Honestly, even with the respect that he held for Sybil, he had no interest in discussing this with her. 

“I feel I can speak this way because I think everyone deserves the chance to be happy. And, I think this will give you happiness.”

He stared, not having expected that from her.

Though, in all honesty, he really should’ve.

“Sybil?” 

“Tom,” She smiled, starting to turn away from Thomas. 

But, not before giving him one more piece of advice.

“Consider it. Please.” She fixed him with another stare. “And, if you can’t join now, consider joining in the spring.”

**_._**

  
  


After the “Smoothing Iron” incident and the little “Secret Garden” scene, it seemed Mr. Carson was making more of an effort to listen in on the  _ a cappella  _ rehearsals.

Of course, that came to a halt once Elsie mentioned potentially bringing  _ Journey  _ into the fold, unlike her original plan. 

After all, the song had been brought forth as per Cora Crawley’s request.

And Cora Crawley was not a woman one said no to.

At the suggestion, the choir director had immediately ran back into his comfort zone -- his own classroom. Of course, Elsie had no real intention of performing Journey this semester, even though she did want to have a bit of fun with at least one song.

In any case, it was hardly her fault if she actually fulfilled the promises she made to her students and their parents.

Speaking of...

_._

“Mrs. Hughes,” Tom Branson was hardly the type to stay after-school just to make small chat with a teacher. 

That meant she absolutely curious as to what he wanted to discuss.

“Yes, Tom?” The boy seemed to have ready himself for rejection, but soldiered on with his question nevertheless.

“Well, it’s just that I was wondering if I could make a song request, since we still have a lot of time before the concert.” 

_ While nine weeks isn’t exactly ‘a lot of time’, they are doing better than I anticipated. I suppose hearing him out won’t hurt. _

“What was it that you had in mind, Tom?” He hardly needed a quarter of a minute, let alone two seconds to bluntly state his request:

  
  
“Something Irish.”

“Something Irish?” It felt stupid to repeat such a question, but she couldn’t help but do so.

“Something Irish.” He was absolutely serious in his request, that much was clear. 

Even if it was rather vague.

Elsie glanced back at the cabinets filled with a system she still didn’t quite fully understand, before looking back to see his earnest face staring her down.

She internally sighed.

“Did you have anything in mind? Something to narrow the search down?” He blinked a moment, but sheepishly shrugging.

“I didn’t think I’d get this far, to be honest, Mrs. Hughes.”

This time, she let her sigh emit itself with a hint of a snort soon following.

_._

“Now, as you may have noticed,” It was one of their final pieces for the Mixed Choir that Mr. Carson was now passing out.

And there was a reason why the voice director had been refraining from bringing it into the fold just yet. 

Both he and Elsie seemed to be quite calm but were in fact bracing themselves for the inevitable change in atmosphere once the ensemble before him actually looked at their music. “There is a soprano solo.”

_ Please, allow this to be a smooth audition process instead of the normal mess.  _ Mrs. Hughes thought darkly to herself, ready to do battle.

Immediately, dozens of young ladies bolted to attention at this -- all in their own ways. Some stared more intently at the music, others piercingly gazed right at the two teachers, whilst a few stiffened in their seats and feigned disinterest. Few were not taken with the glamour of the idea, true, but many attentively focused on any word Mr. Carson now had to say.

“Auditions will be held after school tomorrow and Wednesday. If you are interested, you may drop by 402 during any of the lunch periods or after-school. The soloist will be announced by Thursday.”

Whispers broke out at this, as she knew they would. And even the glare of the stern voice director couldn’t silence the excitement.

Something told Mrs. Hughes that they would be going over the notes for this part many,  _ many  _ times over the next two days.

Fortunately, she had Ibuprofen for the inevitable migraine and Band-Aids if her fingers just so happened to start bleeding.

_._

“Well that went swimmingly,” Sarah remarked caustically, having refrained from clutching her ears from the pain. Hearing the solo repeatedly rehearsed as a group by all able and willing girls -- that is to say, almost everyone in the soprano section -- meant that she was quite ready to leave at the ringing of the bell.

“Could have been worse,” He snarked in response, “They could have had them sing it individually.” 

“Thomas,” The sharp voice of their choir teacher made itself known over the din of so many students leaving.

“Yes, Mrs. Hughes?”

“I’d like a word after-school.” He resisted the urge to scowl, settling for a mild, “Yes, Mrs. Hughes.” before he and the only tolerable singer in the crowd left the room.

“What do you suppose that’s all about?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, now won’t we?”

But, he was curious himself. 

Only mildly curious, mind, but still.

_._

It had been a longer day than normal, the type where one wanted to retire from it all as soon as possible. The altos in Bel Canto were beautiful yet painfully shy -- hindering the perfect notes they already held. The baritones in the Men’s Ensemble were struggling for some reason to mesh with the basses and tenors quite as well as normal. The beginner women’s ensemble seemed unusually out of sorts today -- taking the whole class to go over only two of their songs. And it was clear as day that Advanced Mixed was far too distracted by the solo in “Breath of Heaven” to have properly focused on anything.

Still, Elsie was still hoping Thomas would actually drop by for that word she wanted.

And, soon enough, she heard the baritone in question approach the classroom.

“You wanted to have a word, Mrs. Hughes?” She nodded, observing him as he entered the classroom. If she were to look past the superficial demeanor he presented, she could almost see--

Well, it wouldn’t hardly do to simply think about the matter, now would it?

“I did indeed.” He waited a beat, faintly lifting an eyebrow as his features morphed into feigned patience.

“Is there something wrong, Mrs. Hughes?”

“Nothing is ‘wrong’, per se, Thomas,” He hardly looked appeased by that. Still, who would be? “But I do have a question I’d like to put to you.”

The eyebrow receded, and even more of a mask seemed to overtake the teen. Which meant that she’d hardly get a straight response if she attempted to beat around the bush.

Well, Elsie never really preferred to beat around the bush in any case -- it was simply what the job called for at times.

“What do you like about  _ a cappella  _ singing?” If she didn’t need to be so serious, she might’ve chuckled at Thomas’s shock -- a form of surprise that made itself unusually plain.

“I’m sorry?” He’s inquisitive, but he’s not drawing up walls at her question.

“Well, I’ve noticed you seemed interested in  _ a cappella  _ singing, and yet you never volunteered to be a part of the choir. So, I wanted to know why.”

He regained a bit of that ghastly “neutral” attitude she’d seen since Day 1. The one that spoke of cynicism that she personally never wanted to see in any of her students.

“I’m not sure as to what you mean, Mrs. Hughes.” She almost wanted to roll her eyes at this. His obstinacy was clearly as bad as Mr. Carson’s. “And, I believe I need to be making my way back home now, so if you’ll excuse me.”

He turned away, walking purposefully back towards the door.

“You’re a good singer, Thomas, one of the better baritones of the choir.” Which was indeed a compliment, seeing as how he was in the Mixed Choir. “And you are always welcomed to sing in my choir.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hughes.” He paused, clearly not convinced at all by the praise or the invitation. “I shall give the thought all the consideration it is due.” 

Impertinent and oily, that would really be the only way to classify that response. 

Yet, he had stopped at her offer instead of pretending to not have heard a thing. 

And, Thomas’s exit allowed Elsie to see that it was indeed he who had been hiding just outside the door, listening to the audition of the  _ a cappella  _ choir. 

Furthermore, she had caught him humming parts of “This is the Moment”. Not only that, she knew he was picking up the songs they’d been starting to work on -- just from hearing Jimmy rehearse, no doubt.

So, maybe, there was hope for this opportunity yet.

In any case, there wasn’t time for contemplation. Not with another student waiting right outside the door.

“Mrs. Hughes,” She hadn't been expecting to be approached by Edith Crawley -- and certainly not at the end of a very,  _ very  _ long day. Still, even with it being a never-ending day, she didn’t really mind being called upon one more time.

“Yes, Edith?”

The young lady stopped a moment, hesitantly meeting her teacher's eye.

“Well, I was wondering if you could help me a little with something.” 

_._

“You should try for it.” They'd taken to walking home together, since they lived close by  _ and  _ in the same direction. 

“What, the solo?” Anna couldn't help but guess the topic. After all, she'd been debating the same thing since Mr. Carson announced it. 

“Yeah. I've heard you sing -- you've got a nice voice.” 

“You're not so bad yourself,  _ Mr. Bates _ .” It was a little joke they'd shared, ever since Mr. Carson had accidentally called him that one day. Course, Alfred and Jimmy made the joke just a bit more vulgar, but it was still their little joke at the end of the day.

“Yes, well, I don't think my range is quite ready for such a solo.” Especially seeing as how he could barely use his  _ falsetto _ .

Which was of course something they both knew, and something that he now had to prove -- to his now laughing audience -- by belting out a very poor rendition of the solo.

Complete with as much over-the-top choreography as he possibly could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I have my own ideas on who should receive the solo, I am open to suggestions :)
> 
> So long as they are a female in Advance, I’m down to consider anyone -- even if it’s an OC not previously mentioned. In any case, this list includes: Anna, Mary, Sybil, Edith, O’Brien, and Rose. 
> 
> Normally, I’d be gender-neutral but, as a tenor will find out, this solo is one that Mr. Carson would be a stickler about.
> 
> And, if you’d like to listen to the solo, look at “Breath of Heaven *Arranged by Craig Courtney”. The choir in particular should be wearing ball-gowns and suits. The solo is the first 60 seconds and the last 40 seconds.


	10. Trials and Treble-lations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anything else! Check the chapter before-hand -- "Slip-ups and Sopranos". Both are being published here on the same day, and so you might miss it by mistake!
> 
> Now, who’s ready for some proper auditions? I realize now that I definitely should’ve put more detail into the previous auditions -- something I intend to rectify with the next chapter. 
> 
> In any case, to make up for the lack of audition detail, I offer you this chapter :)

She had been making her through the main entrance and into the building when it had happened.

“Mrs. Hughes!” Rose had somehow spotted her teacher in the crowd of students. Why Rose was even here and milling about an hour before classes started was a mystery -- though Elsie had a feeling she knew perfectly well why. “I was wondering if I could practice with you to prepare for the--”

“Oh, quite sorry, Rose!” If Elsie even heard the ‘s-word’ before she got into her classroom, she would not be responsible for her actions. “I’m afraid I must attend a staff meeting that I’m already late for.”

By staff meeting she meant hide away in Beryl’s room before the rest of the female singers from Advanced Mixed found her. 

_._

“Running away are you?” The band director guffawed at the sight of her friend.

“How did-- What on Earth do you mean?”

“They could hear you banging the same notes unendingly all the way from the first floor, Elsie!” A chortle erupted from the woman this time, causing the choir teacher to shoot off an icy glare. “Someone wanted help rehearsing before they needed to sing, didn't they?”

Elsie maintained the frigid glare for a solid minute, but Beryl wouldn’t stop laughing.

“You know, thirty years ago, _we_ were them.” She wiped a mirthful tear away. "Quite the role reversal, isn't it? I do feel sorry for poor Ms. Davis, the more I think about it."

That broke the ice.

Didn’t bring a smile nor coax a laugh from the Scottish Dragon.

But, it did break the ice.

_._

“Are you ready to do battle today, Mr. Carson?” She needed to make a joke, hearing the bell that signaled the start of the lunch periods.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hughes, I didn’t quite catch that. What did you say?”

“Never mind.” She could already hear the first footsteps fall. “Auditioning students are coming.”

“Quite right you are, Mrs. Hughes.” He paused, looking at her more closely. “Are you quite alright?”

“‘Course I am.” Just because she needed to run-- have that staff meeting first thing in the morning didn’t mean she couldn’t face back-to-back auditions for another three class periods.

“Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes!”

It just figures that dodging her earlier meant that she'd be the first to audition.

"Hello, Rose. Are we to take it that you'd like to audition?"

_._

Rose had put up a good audition, that was true. Her voice contained a fair amount of forward motion and clarity to it, the notes were in her range, and it did sound pretty.

However, it also sounded like somewhat of a jazz rendition of what was definitely not supposed to be jazz. Furthermore, no matter how many attempts to take on the more serious mood the song required, her eyes hinted with innate happiness and her face held a warmth not fitting to the piece.

So, while there was definitely potential for future singing opportunities with the young lady, this didn’t quite fit the bill.

“Ah, Jane. What brings you here today?”

_._

Jane Moorsum was one of the quieter second sopranos in the choir, one that could improvise and sight-sing far better than many. She even had a nice voice, one that could draw attention even in a cacophony if she so chose.

_“And I wonder what I’ve done”_

But it didn’t feel like a genuine connection to the music.

_“Holy Father, you have come,”_

There felt like there was sympathy to be had with her character. It did sound like her voice did convey the proper emotions -- deep introspection, a hint of sorrow, and more.

But, it still didn’t feel like it was right.

Something still didn’t fit.

_._

“Miss O’Brien?” Elsie really had to talk to Mr. Carson about his habit of over-formalizing his interactions with the students. “How can we be of assistance today?”

“I’d like to re-audition for the solo.” The young lady wasn’t radiating with stubbornness per se, but there was a certain resilience that had her hold her ground.

“But, Sarah,” Mrs. Hughes had to protest, “Students are only allowed one audition.”

She felt the full force of the alto’s piercing gaze cut into her for that remark.

“When my voice cracked yesterday, that wasn’t because I couldn’t sing the notes. It was only because I hadn’t warmed up properly.”

The teachers shared a look at this, knowing that as unfair as it may feel to Sarah, they couldn’t just give her another chance when so many others were denied that same chance before.

“One moment, please.” Elsie had a possible compromise in mind, but she needed to confer with her colleague before anything else. And, after quietly sharing the idea to him -- she had to stand up on her tiptoes and practically whisper it into his ear for it to remain out of earshot-- it only took a moment for Mr. Carson to make the final decision on the matter.

“Miss O’Brien-- Sarah,” The alto straightened up at the sound of her name, “We will give you two options."

"Which are?" 

"You may choose to refrain from auditioning today,” He gave her a moment, but she wasn't in the mood to just accept that.

“And the second option, Mr. Carson?”

“You may sing the solo today, but it will not be an audition. You will be singing the solo _only_ to sing the solo. Your audition yesterday will be considered as your only audition.” It truly was not fair to give her a second chance when so many young women were not given that same option. But this would be a good practice, if she so desired to take the opportunity.

As Sarah thought it over for a moment, Mrs. Hughes checked the hallway for other potential auditioning singers.

_So far so good._

When Elsie came back, Sarah was already verbalizing her decision.

“I would like to sing the solo today.” Mr. Carson raised an eyebrow at this, curious as to her reasoning. “As an alto, we’re frequently shunned away from even thinking of trying these kinds of things. It's something practically learned from day one -- that the _sopranos_ are the only ones deserving of a solo.

“Well, I can sing it as well as any soprano. In fact, I can probably sing it better than most of the sopranos in the choir.” That was debatable, but it was also raising O’Brien’s confidence to speak as such. And sometimes confidence was all one really needed to hit notes beautifully. “Which is why I’d like to sing it right now instead."

Elsie understood: having had to sing a multitude of parts in a variety of choirs, there was something to be said for being able to sing a wide range. It sometimes translated into being told to sing only lower notes just because others couldn't -- not because those lower notes were your only notes.

But, those translations unfortunately tended to result in singers getting so used to lower ranges that they've trained their minds to believe they shouldn’t even try for the solos made for the soprano or tenor limelight -- even if they do have ability to sing the notes.

It was an issue that she'd be discussing with Mr. Carson after all of this. Downton at least needed to take into consideration for future performances, if they didn't want to become narrow-minded when it came to range.

“Very well then.” She gestured to the piano. "We will warm up before anything else."

This time, Elsie didn’t even open the binder -- by now her hands were already poised to play the appropriate notes as though she were practicing her scales instead.

_._

This practice had been the first time that Sarah had allowed herself to just sing. Yesterday, her audition had been filled with distractions -- they showed in the fact that she couldn’t focus on the song, the fact that her voice cracked in the middle, the fact that her breathing was off from the start, and the fact that she wasn’t taking her time.

Today, Elsie finally understood why the alto was in Advanced Mixed. When the pressuring distractions were finally removed from the young woman's mentality, she really did have a lovely voice.

And, just as Sarah had boasted right before-hand, she could indeed sing the part as well as any soprano.

_._

“Hello, Jimmy--”

“Hi, Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Carson.”

“Jimmy, we talked about this.” “What brings you here today, James?”

“Well, I know you said at lunch that the lyrics can’t be modified for the solo. But, what if--”

“What have you two been discussing?” “Jimmy, I’m afraid this discussion will have to wait. Laura has already arranged to audition at this time.”

“I did?” “Mrs. Hughes, have you been discussing _soprano_ solos with my _tenors_?” “Well, how long can her audition really take, Mrs. Hughes?”

“Yes, you did. And, I am perfectly happy to explain everything later, Mr. Carson. And, furthermore, there are several others who have also arranged to audition after Laura.”

“I have?” “I certainly hope so, Mrs. Hughes.” “They have?”

“Yes. To all of the above. Now, I do believe it’s time to host an audition?”

_._

Much to the horror of both choir teachers, Beryl dropped by 402 with what looked like a plateful of inordinately delicious sandwiches. There had been no warning to her arrival, and there was clearly going to be no sympathy from the woman if her colleagues were to refuse her culinary gifts.

“So sorry for interrupting,” The band director said in quite the unapologetic manner, having come into the room as Edna Braithwaite was about to sing. “But, you’ll want these lovely teachers of yours to eat something before you sing.”

“Mrs. Patmore!”

“I’m not saying that she’s a bad singer, Mr. Carson -- I’m sure she’s lovely. I’m merely saying that you two have probably gone through two of the three lunch periods without eating!”

“Ber-- Mrs. Patmore, you cannot just come barging into an audition!”

“Is that blood I see, Mrs. Hughes?” But, Beryl knew very well that her friend’s fingers were not bleeding. That had merely been a joke that Elsie had mentioned to the band director, not something that had a high probability of occurring over the course of all these auditions.

“My apologies for the delay, Miss Braith-- I mean Edna. But, if you could give us just one moment.” Mr. Carson wasn’t even giving the sandwiches a second glance. Rather, he was heading straight towards the piano. “What’s this I hear about blood?”

“Oh, I take it back -- I think she’s fine. Must’ve been a trick of the light by the looks of it.” Beryl said, joining them at the piano and holding out a sandwich to the man. He took it without a second thought, distracted by completing a full examination of Elsie’s hands -- so as to make sure there had been no mistakes made.

She felt a blush come upon her as he placed the food down and proceeded to have his hands sandwich hers, pun absolutely intended. He then continued to gently inspect her fingers for any sort of damage.

“Mr. Carson,”

“Even if there is no blood, I did hear your stomach growl about five minutes ago.” He said knowingly, now offering the sandwich he took from Mrs. Patmore.

“In that instance,” Hunger, not embarrassment, was clearly directing her voice. “I do believe I heard yours growl about fifteen minutes ago!”

“I am not the one who has had the pleasure of playing accompaniment when I'm supposed to be eating.”

“I am not the one who is in charge of running all the choirs and habitually foregoes lunch because of it.”

“Well, I--”

“It’s a good thing I made enough sandwiches for the both of you, isn’t it?”

_._

After sandwiches and Edna’s solo, one where she couldn’t quite maintain a straight face or a mirth-free tone -- still recovering from watching the band director shove sandwiches down the throats of two of the most impressive staff members at Downton Academy -- there finally came a lull.

“You know that if I hadn’t brought any food, there’d still be girls coming into audition.” Beryl began to pipe up, as the two teachers had started to look at her in disbelief -- as though she couldn't have delayed her culinary efforts.

“Oh, Edith, have you come to audition today?” Elsie not-so-politely started ushering her friend towards the exit.

“I can take a hint, you know!” The band director called out as the door was being shut, “And you can bet on my dropping by after-school to make sure you both don’t stay here till midnight!”

_Although,_ the woman mischievously thought as she started back towards her domain, _Maybe the two of them staying here till midnight would do them some good._

Of course, she wouldn't do such a thing to do the two.

She wasn't quite that desperate just yet. 

_._

Edith had walked in with a mixture of hesitancy and determination, unsure of just how this would go but determined to at least give this a shot.

“I would indeed like to audition, yes.” But, even as she stated this, it didn’t feel like this was to be her solo. And that attitude showed. “Or, rather, I think I want to audition."

“Let’s warm up before anything else.” Mrs. Hughes instructed, guiding the girl over to the piano.

Elsie had long since taken note of the fact that Edith was the middle child of the Crawley sisters -- as such, the young woman had a tendency to be overlooked. Whereas Mary was the performer in the making and Sybil was the advocate ready to take on the world, Edith had a more uncertain path.

Though, that didn’t mean the middle Crawley sister couldn’t give solos and this sort of thing a try.

After she was sufficiently warmed up, the young lady looked to her teachers for guidance. She hadn’t auditioned for a solo before this.

“Just let me know whenever you’re ready.” Elsie wanted to offer more words of encouragement, but found that the soprano was already stuck in her own thoughts.

“I’m ready.” But the posture that bordered on defeat, combined with the sinking expression, told the teachers otherwise.

“Are you quite sure, Edith?” Mr. Carson found himself asking, watching as his question brought her to raise her chin up to a more appropriate level.

“Yes. I’m ready.”

Elsie began to play softly, watching the soprano take in a shaky breath.

_“I have traveled”_

It was breathy and hesitant, a little off on timing.

_“Many moonless nights.”_

But, it also held the right notes.

_“Cold and weary”_

While she’d need to stop conveying the outright trepidation that was holding back her voice, Edith was doing quite well for her first solo audition.

_“With a babe inside.”_

Edith sharply inhaled, tensing as she braced herself for what was next.

_“And I won--”_

The soprano stopped herself right before the high note, slumping in on herself.

“Try it again, Edith. Please.”

But, she wasn’t able to hear Elsie’s request. Not really.

“I’m afraid that would be a pointless exercise, Mrs. Hughes.” Edith straightened primly, clearly putting up old walls.

“Are you sure you don’t wish to try one more time? If I’m not mistaken, this is your first audition for a solo.” Mr. Carson gently spoke up, surprisingly the both of them with his unusually soft tone. Though, this was a grey offering they now delved into. If Sarah and the others weren't allowed to have a second audition, then why did Edith get that right?

“Quite sure, thank you.” Turns out, they didn't need to worry about the ethics of such a decision: she was already heading back towards the exit.

“Edith,” Elsie had to make one last attempt to get through to the girl, before the soprano walked away with the belief that she should never try again. “Since you technically never finished the solo, you are more than welcome to return after-school today and try one more time.”

She paused in the doorway, with her back still to them.

“Thank you.” The murmur was meek, not containing much hope.

In short, it was very unlikely that Edith would be attempting this again today.

Fortunately, Elsie was willing to keep trying to encourage her in this regard. The older woman had seen many a singer try something like this once, and decide that it was far too much for them. That they were better in the background, that they didn’t deserve to try to be in the limelight.

Well, she was of the belief that one should try. That they should take effective notes on what didn’t go so great, and try again. That progress can happen -- it just takes perseverance, practice, hard work, patience, and the ability to see what’s truly effective.

After all, she had been a farm girl from Argyll who was told many discouraging things about performing right from the start. And, let’s just say that -- over the last thirty years or so -- being that farm girl was not who she was, not anymore.

But, as Edith left the second fourth floor, Elsie was reminded that -- just as she was no longer that farm girl -- Edith was not her.

_._

It was with a patient attitude that Mr. Carson waited for any last-minute soloists to come sailing through the doors of 402. After all, this was their last chance to give the opportunity a shot before the opportunity was officially over.

But, after waiting forty minutes for them, Charles deemed that enough time to leave a note on the door instead of continuing to wait. He then proceeded to head over to 403 so as to observe today’s _a cappella_ rehearsal.

If anyone wanted his attention so they could audition, they could knock on the door of 403 and he would promptly step out of the rehearsal. He wouldn’t even take Mrs. Hughes away from her students in the process. After all, it’s not as though he hadn’t learned the solo accompaniment over the last two days simply by listening.

And, if it saved her sanity as well as her fingertips, then he'd do whatever needed to be done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When it came to the auditions, I hope you enjoyed them. I didn't make them all perfect because that's never how it really goes. Though, if you felt a character would have done better in an audition, let me know and definitely feel free to elaborate. If I ever do any sort of spin-off down the road, I'd like to keep it in mind.
> 
> Now, a note about singing/voices before we call it a day. While it is true that there certainly can be a difference between someone singing and that same person speaking, I find that the speaking voice illuminates a person’s range. That it can inform a person as to their range. For example, I thought I couldn’t sing high notes until my voice teacher heard me giggle a higher note than I’d previously sung. She then later had me singing notes I had once deemed impossible because she knew I could hit them.
> 
> And, in regards to singing versus speaking, some forms of singing actually require you to "speak" (think modern Broadway shows, Barbershop, and equivalents). What I've found is that some of society has an expectation that there must be a difference - that singing must sound "prettier" or "unique" to make it stand out from speaking. But, sometimes there doesn't need to be a difference. Furthermore, sometimes the only difference is that you're putting a musical note to your voice that's not normally there.
> 
> Now, I do understand there’s a lot more to it than just that. But, I could probably write a bit of a paper on the matter if I’m not too careful -- so it’s better to just call it a day here and wish you all a wonderful rest of your day!


	11. Slip-ups and Sopranos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I've got a little more of a break than I anticipated, I'm going to try to post as frequently as possible! In any case, the continuing support is much appreciated! Shall we? :)

Mr. Carson thought that, in all his years as maintaining his reign as the choir director of Downton Academy, students would 1) be sufficiently intimidated by presence that they wouldn't question his observing extra rehearsals and 2) be going out of their way to _avoid_ even glancing in his direction at said extra rehearsals.

In the case of Daisy Robinson, he was quite wrong.

"So, he doesn't even take his eyes off her even when you lot mess up?"

"Yes, Mrs. Patmore." The joy of being a clarinetist in the band and a member of the choir department meant your rehearsal schedule was even more intense than the average student.

It also meant you had really mixed loyalty in regards to who's your favorite music teacher.

"And, what about her? How does she act around him?"

Though, truthfully, Daisy has always felt a kinship with Mrs. Patmore. Far more of a connection than the one she has with Mr. Carson, that's for sure.

"I think she likes him. I don't know how much, but she does seem to like him."

In essence, because of that kinship between the two women, Mr. Carson was not going to be spared from being talked about until it was time for the first class of the day.

And nor was Mrs. Hughes for that matter.

_._

"Jimmy," Mrs. Hughes had been surprised to see the tenor drop by so early in the morning - classes would be starting in ten minutes, after all. "Is everything alright?"

He glanced around the room, scanning for something in particular. After a moment, he turned back to her and focused all of his attention to this one conversation.

"Well, Mrs. Hughes, I actually had a question for you."

"What is it, Jimmy?" He flashed that charming smile -- the one that had eighty percent of the female population within this school unashamedly swoon, regardless of their age.

Unfortunately for him, Elsie had had decades of experience with charismatic singers just like him. Therefore, she was interested only in hearing out his question, nothing more.

And she certainly had no intention of _swooning_.

"It's just that, I know the solo for 'Breath of Heaven' is meant for a soprano. However, it is also a solo that is in the range of a tenor." She couldn't quite nod in response, picturing the scenario he was beginning to describe. "And, so, I was wondering if tenors could audition as well?"

"Well," It was her only response for a solid minute.

She wasn't shocked or scandalized by the thought - you really couldn't be scandalized by "audacious" ideas if you wanted to get far in a singing career. Rather, it was the fact that a tenor from one of _Mr. Carson's_ choirs asking about a solo that traditionally goes to a soprano - emphasis on "traditionally". Therefore, it'd be incredibly unprofessional for her to call the shots on this: it's not her choir and it's a break in tradition - the latter being one of Downton's most prized values.

Not only that, Elsie just couldn't see how the voice director would agree to this in the first place.

"I take it you've already run this idea by Mr. Carson?"

Now it was Jimmy's turn to be flustered into silence.

"You see, I had figured once you approved of the idea, then we could try it out on Mr. Carson." The tenor confessed, momentarily losing his nerve even as he phrased his request in a most reassured manner.

"I see."

"So," He awkwardly started again, regaining a bit of that charm. "What do you think?"

_._

"Is it just me or does Mr. Carson seem different than normal?" Ivy Stuart - a First Soprano from Bel Canto - was always the inquisitive type, that's for sure.

"You noticed, too?" Gwen glanced up from today's questionable lunch from the cafeteria, content to focus on anything other than the food.

"Maybe he's retiring?" Andy Parker - a Tenor II hailing from the Men's Ensemble - looked a little too hopeful at that suggestion, something that William took a little offense at.

"Even if he were retiring, and I'm not saying he is, wouldn't he have announced it already?"

"Well, maybe he-"

"Maybe he's just happy Mrs. Butte will be coming back." Daisy accidentally interrupted, have been thinking aloud. At this, the mood significantly dampened.

"But, doesn't he like Mrs. Hughes?" Gwen rebutted, trying not to think of that possibility. "We certainly like Mrs. Hughes."

"I don't think it's that simple, Gwen," William confessed over Ivy's darkly muttered, "He probably wants Mrs. Butte back _because_ we like Mrs. Hughes."

"I'm sure Mr. Carson--" Quick to defend one of his favorite teachers at the institution, William was still unintentionally cut off by his friend.

"I honestly had forgotten about Mrs. Butte," Andy remarked into what he believed was an attempt at - well, he honestly didn't know what came out of the cafeteria today. And frankly, having tried one of Mrs. Patmore's cookies last year, he was of the belief that the band director missed her true calling.

"Lucky you." Ivy came back into the conversation with ease. "But if you'd had the year we had in Beginner's last year." She trailed off, shuddering at the thought.

"Maybe she'll get sick again and will have to miss next semester." Daisy offered, trying to redeem herself in the conversation. Though, it was too late - the rest of her friends were already slumping further and further into their chairs, radiating frustration and defeat.

"Maybe we could poison her-- I"m absolutely joking, guys, we wouldn't dare do such a thing!" 

"... How about food poisoning?" 

_._

While Daisy and her close friends were content to bemoan the future semester over lunch, a young woman was making her way up to the second fourth floor. Having already been wished good luck by the friend she cared most about this morning, she felt it was time to audition for that solo.

"Anna? Was there something you wanted?"

The soprano smiled at Mrs. Hughes, feeling a bit more relaxed about everything in the presence of the older woman.

"I was interested in auditioning for the solo, actually." The voice teacher nodded encouragingly at this.

"That's wonderful, Anna!" The older woman thought something over for a few seconds, debating. "Now, Mr. Carson is currently running an errand. But, he should be back in a few minutes and then he'll be able to listen to you. How does that sound?"

"That sounds wonderful."

"Perfect." She gestured for Anna to accompany her towards the piano, "Now, even though you've already sung today, let's warm up a little, shall we?"

_._

"Mr. Carson," He had been wrapping up a quick errand to the first floor - some menial excuse to stretch his legs and stress about the concert in peace - when he bumped into one Violet Crawley.

"Mrs. Crawley," He greeted the woman as though he were a butler in a grand house instead of the choir director. Though, if he were to be honest, it was always in her presence that everything seemed to be far more prestigious than it really might be.

"Mr. Carson, it looks as though I've caught you in an unsuitable moment," No doubt she had noticed the stack of papers and the harried look he currently held.

"Not at all, Mrs. Crawley," It was strange that, for as long as he'd known her, 'Milady' always seemed the most appropriate title to bestow. "Nothing that can't wait."

"In that case," It seemed that he'd just given her the answer she'd been expecting - or, possibly, hoping for. "I was wondering if I might inquire into the nature of this semester's choral selections?"

He blinked.

Violet Crawley had been attending the choir concerts since before Charles took over as the director. She knew the beautiful patterns of tradition that all directors faithfully followed by heart. She quite possibly could recite the programs for the last ten years without much, if any, hesitation.

Which meant there was only one real curiosity she held:

The _a cappella_ selections.

_._

"Where you headed off to?" Thomas wasn't really interested in Sarah's current plans, whatever they were, but he was bored.

So, clearly anything went for entertainment.

"What does it matter to you?" She scowled, knowing that his interest was now piqued by her avoidance.

"Going to audition for the _soprano_ solo, are we?" The alto's eyes narrowed, her mouth thinning quite easily.

" _I_ am tired of the cafeteria's disgusting attempts at food." She lied easily. "But, if this is going to be your attitude, _you_ are not welcomed to join me."

The baritone saw through the lie with ease, having known her for several years.

But, like he said, he didn't really care.

"Have fun singing for Mr. Carson!" Thomas sarcastically stated, even giving a bit of a mocking wave as a send-off for her.

Her responding gesture did nothing but amuse him.

"Hope your voice is better than your attempts at wit!"

_._

"Mrs. Hughes," Mary Crawley regally entered the room only a few minutes after the final bell of the day had rung.

"Yes, Mary?" At the sound of the prim pupil, Elsie already made a start towards the piano in anticipation. "Can I do something for you?"

"I would like to audition for the soprano solo in 'Breath of Heaven'." She announced grandly to the practically empty room, as though she were on the stage. Elsie nodded, not really impressed by her demeanor. But, before she could properly respond, Mary's one admirer in the music department was already speaking up.

"I'm sure Mrs. Hughes is quite ready to listen to what I'm equally sure will be a lovely audition, Mary." Charles had somehow appeared out of what seemed to be nowhere, unintentionally straining patience Elsie was already quite low on.

The problem was that the older woman had a feeling that, regardless of Mary's talent or the talent of others, the soprano would be receiving the solo. Especially since Mr. Carson recently confessed that he was looking forward to hearing the eldest Crawley sister audition.

_Well, not if_ _**I** _ _have something to say about the matter._

Now, if Mary indeed deserved the solo, so be it. But, if she were just handed it as though it were a title inherited - _that_ is where Elsie drew the line.

"Yes, well, I will need a minute to find the appropriate music." And, if she took her sweet time scanning the pages of her binder filled of choir music, in order to keep her calm from slipping into pure exasperation, then so be it.

"Ah, yes, here it is."

Yes, here was the piece. Exactly where she knew it would be: situated in the same section of the binder that had given her a lovely paper cut earlier. Hadn't moved at all in the course of the last twenty-four hours.

But, really, was there a need to announce such a fact to the room?

"I am ready whenever you are, Mary." The soprano in question nodded her thanks before taking a moment to ready herself. Her features shifted, as her eyes closed, and soon she was taking on the character.

Even if this particular student tended to rub Elsie the wrong way, the older woman had to admit:

Mary certainly knew the basics to performing.

_._

It was with a weak attempt at an exhalation that pushed Elsie back to her feet.

Let's just say that Mary was not the last to audition that day.

And now the voice teacher felt she would never get the notes of that wretched solo out of her head.

"Wasn't that quite a treat, Mrs. Hughes?" She glared at her director, irritated that all he had to do was listen to them. "I do enjoy the fact that there's so much enthusiasm for performing."

"'A treat'." Elsie faintly repeated, quite close to banging her head against the wall. She would've banged it against the piano, but Elsie knew the instrument didn't deserve such treatment.

Her colleague, on the other hand...

Well, that was still debatable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still open to hearing suggestions for the soloist. As previously mentioned, I'm quite open to options!


	12. Announcements and Understandings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready to see who Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson have in mind? As well as discover just what has been bothering Mr. Carson since an earlier chapter?

On Thursday morning, swarms of students entered the academy with trepidation.

Whether one had auditioned or not, there were still a hint of curiosity and excitement within the students. Rarely were solos given in the winter concerts, and rarer still that the auditions lasted longer than a day.

Yet, it wasn't those considerations that had the choir buzzing with speculation.

Rather, it was that, even though there had been a decision already made, the choir would have to wait a full 162 minutes before they could be privy to hearing the choice.

_._

_226 minutes before the soloist's supposed to be announced:_

"When it comes to the solo, I really would like us in agreement on the matter." Charles had said to her the moment she walked in.

"Mr. Carson, while I do agree with you, I haven't even taken my coat off yet."

"Right." He backed off, trying his best to wait patiently for her to take off her coat and the likes. Though Elsie wasn't truly offended by his impatience - she understood why there was nervous air accompanying him today.

Normally the soloist would have been decided a day in advance. But, after all those rehearsals and auditions, Charles had only taken one look at her before deciding that they would meet in the morning to discuss the details.

A decision that was completely fine by her at the time, but one that she felt was a mistake in retrospect.

"So, how many young women did you have in mind?"

"There's only one real audition that stuck out to me, Mrs. Hughes." He confessed, having been pondering the matter all night.

"What a coincidence - I also find myself drawn to only one audition." He smiled at this statement, reasonably sure now that they were thinking of the same soprano.

"Well, in that case, shall we speak of her at the same time?"

"What if it's not the same singer?" His smile grew, touched by her consideration. But, it only made sense for her to be drawn to the same audition that he had been taken in by.

"We'll cross that bridge if we ever get there." Elsie did not seem convinced, hesitatingly biting her lip as her eyebrows quirked. "Shall we then?"

She almost shrugged at this, before giving her consent.

"On the count of 3," It felt a little dramatic, but how often did these things happen for the choirs? "1-2-3!"

"Anna." "Mary."

She was not surprised by his answer, but he was most certainly taken aback by hers.

"But, Anna did not have nearly half the stage presence Mary carried within her audition."

"That may be so, but her voice certainly held it all. Listening to her, I almost forgot to play the piano. That's how much I was taken in by her rendition of the solo, Mr. Carson."

"Mrs. Hughes, Mary not only commanded the space masterfully, she also convinced me of her equally heartfelt emotions. I haven't heard such a clear voice contain such a lugubrious tone in quite some time."

"While I can concede that Mary had sung with some emotion, it did not feel as touching as Anna's. Furthermore, her face was holding back - it was a mask that stopped her from truly connecting to the audience."

"Her face's stillness revealed itself to be one that was desperately trying to remain above it all, as the depths of such a task before her are inordinately vital. The somber tone within the lyrics was complemented by eyes that held a weary determination - _her_ eyes."

The debate continued, rising with volume from time to time, and certainly carrying itself through the ringing of the first bell.

_._

_160 minutes before the soloist's supposed to be announced:_

"Do you think our rehearsal will begin soon?" Henry Lang had been afraid to approach the two teachers for they were still in deep discussion with one another. Instead, he posed the question to a fellow singer.

"I honestly don't think they realized we've arrived just yet." Michael Gregson muttered in response, amused by it all.

_._

_104 minutes before the soloist's supposed to be announced:_

"Mr. Carson? Mrs. Hughes?"

"We'll be right with the choir, Phyllis. Please just make sure that everyone gets out 'Carol of the Bells' before we finish our discussion - it should only take a minute."

_._

_57 minutes before the soloist's supposed to be announced:_

"Since you've all done an excellent job today, ladies, you may begin to pack up and call it a day."

"Do you really mean it, Mrs. Hughes?"

"Yes, Ethel, I really do."

She gave the young ladies a minute to pack up before turning to her colleague,

"I think I may have a solution for our little problem, Mr. Carson."

"I'm listening, Mrs. Hughes."

_._

_52 minutes before the soloist's supposed to be announced:_

"Now, as I'd like this to be a productive rehearsal," Mr. Carson began, imperiously commanding their attention, "We will not be announcing our final decision regarding the solo until I have deemed this rehearsal to be a success."

Seeing as it was mostly her idea to delay the announcement, Mrs. Hughes couldn't help nodding along. After all, making the announcement at the start would result in teary eyed sopranos, catty glares coming from all angles, and endless attitude for fifty minutes.

Announcing it at the end also meant that the two teachers would actually have their students' attention for the whole class period.

_._

"They certainly want to drag it out, don't they?" A hiss came from the first soprano section.

"They're smart, that's what they are." O'Brien couldn't help but retort in kind, unusually grouchy.

_._

_2 minutes before the soloist's supposed to be announced:_

After what was seemed to be one of the most efficient rehearsals Mr. Carson had ever conducted - "Perhaps, we should consider doing this sort of piece again in the spring, Mrs. Hughes." "I'll be sure to wish Mrs. Butte good luck." "Oh. That's right." - it was finally time.

"As I'm sure you're all anxious to hear," For, even if they hadn't audition, every singer was at least somewhat curious. "It is time to announce our decision."

Several women straightened up, many began to slouch and look away, and a fair number still desperately tried to maintain a blank face - as though they hadn't been waiting _ages_ to hear this.

"It's quite fascinating, really," Elsie watched her colleague drag out the announcement, wondering if he got a kick out of drawing the suspense. "We've never had an audition process quite this intense. Nor, has it ever been so close when it came to the auditions."

_He really seems to want to explain the whole process._ She realized, now understanding. _And, he really has no idea what they truly want to hear._

Elsie could've groaned or rolled her eyes. Seeing as how she was standing right next to him, she did neither - settling for a strained smile. Questions of her own came forth at these thoughts, namely: How has Mrs. Butte maintained her sanity for however long she's been working here?

"In short," Sighs of relief emanated from more than one section at this. "We will not be having a soloist."

Jaws dropped. Eyes bulged. Veins twitched.

And Jimmy couldn't help but cry out a strangled, "What?" - as though by some miracle Mr. Carson would have been announcing his name.

"Rather, the soloist will be split into two sections." The choir director smiled, "Let's give a warm round of applause to Mary Crawley," Much to her surprise, Elsie caught a faint look of wonderment underneath the soprano's poised expression. "And Anna Smith, for their wonderful auditions."

Anna hadn't been able to do much more than gape in astonishment, before grinning so much Elsie wanted to cheer herself. And luckily, she was seated right next to the one person who supported the most in this endeavour, John. It was at this point, her biggest supporter happily gave her a congratulatory hug for her efforts.

The class was dumbstruck, still applauding as they were told even though there was confusion at the compromising decision. Truly, no one had witnessed Mr. Carson make such a decision.

And, somehow, there was only one tangible reason for the change - one person who probably could've gotten the director to change his traditions - and she was standing right in front of them.

"Now, please, do remember," Elsie found herself speaking over the now dying applause, "That even if you did not get the solo this time, that does not mean that you should not keep trying these sorts of opportunities."

She looked directly at Edith for a few seconds before focusing on other singers that she knew had also struggled to perform.

"There will be future chances to perform. And, when they come, you should know that you have every right to audition for them - regardless of what you may believe of yourself or your voice's range."

While there were indeed limits to a person's singing range, if there were one thing that Elsie Hughes discovered over the last few decades it'd be this:

Setting aside the vocal range a person can have, if they simply give themselves permission to unashamedly express themselves, they can and _will_ surprise themselves with their true power.

_._

It had only taken a few days for the Advanced Mix Choir to calm down once the "solo" had been announced.

And, as they all began to get back to an even keel, it became time to bring up a topic that could no longer be forgotten.

_._

"It's unusually cold, even for October." Granted, there was occasionally a year where it dipped into the single digits this early on, but it was always a shock when it did.

Fortunately, whether it was colder than he'd like or hotter than he could imagine, Charles Carson wasn't deterred when it came to bringing up this particular subject - especially since this was a subject that needed to be addressed as soon as possible.

"Mrs. Hughes,"

"Before anything else, let's warm up a bit, shall we?" She gestured to the radiators within the room, positioned in the back near the windows.

"Let's." He couldn't really argue, much as he'd rather get to the matter at hands. And, so, before they did anything else they wound up sitting down in some of the student chairs - huddled as closely to the radiators and each other as professionalism would allow.

"Is now a good time?" The choir director asked after a short while, offering a hint of his own cheekiness within the question. Her closed eyes crinkled at this, her hands that had been absorbing the radiator's heat now drifted unconsciously towards him, and her lips twitched in amusement at his tone.

"As good a time as any."

Charles nodded to himself, taking in some of the heat for himself and enjoying the moment as it was.

"It's just that Mrs. Butte is the one who would typically get the privilege of deciding the finale pieces. I, of course, always must approve of the selections. But, she was the one who would get to initially choose." Elsie cracked open her eyes, bringing her hands back to the cozy radiators.

"I had been wondering about that, and was going to bring it up this week." He nodded appreciatively, no longer surprised by her thoughtfulness.

"Although we do have a fair amount of time left,"

"It's the finale songs that typically require the strongest confidence." Mr. Carson smiled once more, pleased that he never really had to spell anything out for her.

"Exactly."

She looked over at the music library, with its shelves that stand so proudly in the corner of the room. And for a solid minute, she was content to simply contemplate the possibilities.

"Was there a particular list of songs that you gave her?"

"Not really."

Elsie got up at this, drawing Charles's attention to just how the drafty building was impacting her appearance today: her cheeks were just a bit rosier and her eyes shined with a determination he would happily observe for hours on end.

But, perhaps said determination was coming from the task at hand.

"So long as it came from our music library and was deemed appropriate for a finale, I usually approved of her suggestions."

"Good to know."

She then walked over to the shelves, sorting through his system without managing to destroy it in the process - and, truthfully, she was one of the only people in the building who could accomplish such a feat.

Now, she had asked for patience and so patience would be what she received. Still, after quietly waiting for a fair amount of minutes, his curiosity grew to the point where he could no longer remain quite so silent.

"I take it you had something in mind?"

"You'll see," Was the cryptic response. Though, the enigmatic quality was somewhat muffled by the shelving units she was now surrounded by.

Naturally, Mr. Carson didn't really have a response for that.

And, as such, he had to make do with more sitting in silence and observing his colleague while waiting for her return.

"Are you sure you don't need a hand?" She was struggling to reach a shelf, after all.

"Quite sure, Mr. Carson."

He watched her go up on tiptoes to reach an impossibly high shelf for the fifth time and finally decided that enough was enough. Rising to his feet, Charles found himself striding over to the particular section she was currently inhabiting - quietly arriving at the spot in seconds.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance." He felt her bump into him, having been startled by his unexpected presence. And, though he should have been focused on retrieving the music, he was more drawn to her in this moment. After all, it was her bumping into him that told him that he found the warmth emanating from her to be far more inviting than what came from the radiators.

Elsie turned slightly, to try and face him properly. But in the cramped space that the shelves had given them, there really wasn't much leeway for turning.

There wasn't much leeway for anything, to be quite candid.

"Perhaps you can." It was only when her voice had taken a somewhat breathy quality that he realized that this was probably not the most professional of situations.

Strangely enough, Charles found he didn't mind. Something that would have normally had the alarms ringing in his head, but something that he also could dismiss by focusing on the task at hand.

"What were you trying to reach?" His own voice had softened considerably as well. Now that they were so close to one another, there wasn't a need to speak louder than _sotto voce_.

"Well, if you must know," She had stilled, turning only her neck back to him so as to not bump into him once more. "I had been trying to reach 'O Holy Night'."

He came to a stop at this confession, having been skimming the shelves to determine what she would have been interested in. But, upon hearing that statement Charles found himself abandoning the search in order to fondly recall their first meeting.

"Based on your system, it should be on that shelf." But the shelf she indicated, which was indeed the correct shelf, was also definitely out of reach for Elsie.

"Allow me." It was quietly murmured as Charles maneuvered his arm around hers. Soon enough, he was able to reach out a hand and grab the stack of music sheets she'd been looking for. He brought the stack down to her eye level, so they could both look it over.

"Well," The choir director contemplated it for a moment, having not looked at this particular arrangement for quite some time. "This could work."

"It's certainly a grand enough piece for a finale." Her statement coaxed a nod of agreement, which in return delivered a shiver of something in response. But, he was too caught up in the music now to notice.

"And, there is a hint of sentimentality." Charles added knowingly, now allowing the nostalgia to guide his hands as his continued turning the pages.

"There is indeed that."

They stood in a comforting silence, he flipping through the pages for her as she took in the notes that'd had been penciled into the sides of piece - the suggestions from previous directors and conductos.

"The accompaniment would be easy enough to pick up on," She murmured to herself but, with his reverie controlling his thoughts, Mr. Carson wasn't paying much attention to the accompaniment. Rather, he was now being struck with an idea of sorts. An idea that wouldn't be able to acted on for quite some time, and certainly one that would need to be thoroughly thought through. But it was also one that he would be sure to act upon nevertheless.

And with it, came another idea.

Luckily, this was one that he could act on within this moment.

"I think I may have found our song for the second finale piece. If you don't mind my making the selection, that is."

"I certainly don't mind." He could feel the soothing vibration of her voice wash over him, being absorbed into the air. And, quite honestly, Charles did not want to leave this enclosed space. For though he could not quite describe what exactly he felt for his colleague, he knew that he did feel some form of fondness for her.

In any case, the song he was looking for called for a form of separation - much to his slight dismay.

"Now," He felt disappointed by the sudden loss of warmth, but continued on nevertheless. "I know it is a holiday song. However, sometimes it's not really considered a 'Christmas' song, even though it is sung during the Twelve Days of Christmas. Fortunately, people do consider it appropriate enough to sing at Christmas parties from time to time."

"I'm not convinced I followed all of that. Or that I even know which song you're referencing."

"Yes, well, Mrs. Hughes," He found the piece surprisingly faster than he intended. But that merely gave him permission to return to her - in order to present the music, of course. "I'd be hard pressed to believe you don't know it, to be honest."

_._

When the seventh period choir - also known as the Beginner Women's Choir - came to class, something seemed off.

Firstly, Mr. Carson was nowhere to be found.

Secondly, upon asking their choir teacher if anything was amiss, her response was rather odd:

"He's off making more copies of music." A simple enough explanation that was typically accepted as a "normal" response. What was unusual was the inordinately soft tone from Mrs. Hughes - who, for whatever reason, carried a faint smile all the way through the class.

And, really, while that statement isn't abnormal for a choir student to hear, it was the manner and delivery that threw them off.

Suffice to say, something was certainly up.

_._

"Thomas? Have you come to sing with us today?" He'd been busy talking to Jimmy right in front of the entrance to her classroom - that is to say, Room 403.

In any case, seeing as how everyone in the choirs knew this was when and where a cappella rehearsals occurred, it was easy to assume that he'd finally changed his mind.

However, judging from the glance Thomas sent in her direction, she already knew what he'd essentially be saying.

"Only came to wish Jimmy good luck. I heard Journey was going to be brought into the mix." She almost rolled her eyes at that, wanting to put an end to this unnecessary dilly-dallying. If it wasn't for the fact that she knew he wanted to sing with this choir and she knew he'd thrive within this choir, she'd just send him on his way.

But, Elsie could hardly do that. Nor did she really want to, as gratifying as his inevitable shock would be if he received such treatment.

"Well, if you ever want to take some of that luck for yourself, you're welcomed to do so." He faintly nodded, before bidding his friend goodbye as he strutted out towards the stairs.

Your loss, came the uncharacteristically disrespectful thought. But, she regretted the thought as soon as it came to mind, sweeping it away in favor of the announcement she had to make.

"Now, students," She was pleased to see that practically everyone was already situated in their seats - even though they still had a minute before rehearsal officially started. "There's one more song I'd like us to try singing."

"But, Mrs. Hughes-"

"No, 'but's, Andy. We only have three songs we're working on this semester and I normally require my ensembles to learn at least six." The students blanched at this, surprised by her standards.

Though, by this point, they really shouldn't be.

"What will we be learning, Mrs. Hughes?" She smiled at Sybil, before walking over to the piano and picking up a stack of sheet music.

"It is a lovely piece you might recognized called 'Irish Blessing'." All eyes immediately went to Tom who, much to his credit, calmly stood his ground. "And it's a barbershop arrangement."

All eyes instantaneously went back to her.

"What's barbershop?" Her smile became a little strained at this, her age apparently making itself present without her consent.

"Barbershop is an old-fashioned sort of singing."

"The type Mr. Carson would've sang when he was our age?" She really couldn't help the snort that came out at Daisy's question.

"Perhaps, Daisy. Though you'd have to ask him that yourself." This got laughter out of most of them. "In any case, if you remember that video I showed in the beginning of the year, that was a form of barbershop."

The women who knew what she talked about immediately put a stop to the laughter.

"What video is she talking about?" Anna shook her head at Alfred's question - he was in the Men's Ensemble, after all.

"We'll show you later." She whispered to him as Mrs. Hughes reigned them all back in with a brisk, "Now, are we getting to work or not?"


	13. Questions and Traditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy some references to (and role reversals for) Series 6, some fluffy teaching moments, and a few more teases for what'll transpire at the concert ;)

She was humming, lost in her thoughts, when she entered 402 for the first rehearsal of the school day. He hadn't even noticed it at first, having been surrounded by a plethora of online correspondences.

But, after a moment, the soft hum reached his ears. And, even though it stopped only seconds later, it reminded him of an idea. A thought that had been put to the side in the midst of an astonishingly lovely moment for one particular reason:

So that it could still remain a pleasant surprise for the woman in mind.

With a glance at the calendar, Charles could confirm that it would indeed be time to start setting that idea in motion.

Or, rather, he could confirm that it was time to start properly considering whether or not he _should_ set this idea into motion.

_._

"I still can't believe that they _both_ got the solo." Sarah may be an alto, but that hardly meant she needed to refrain from commenting about the _soprano_ solo.

"Well, whether you believe it or not, Mary and Anna have the solo." Thomas remarked snidely. But, he wasn't really paying attention to her complaint, as evidenced by his remark lacking any true bite.

O'Brien looked up at this, noticing the change in behavior and not approving in the slightest that her friend wasn't even focused on their conversation.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing." It was far more defensive response than normal, prompting the subject to be changed.

"Don't tell me you're still thinking of joining that _a cappella_ group?" She scoffed, watching him very closely.

"Of course not. That's all a load of rubbish."

The problem was, he didn't really believe that.

Worse still, he had been considering it.

_._

Her little _a cappella_ army now felt quite comfortable with their songs, having practically all of their music memorized. Even "Irish Blessing" was close to being sung with looking at the sheet music - though, that could have been Tom's influence. The teen had been running the lyrics and notes repeatedly with any singer he could. 

Regardless, any type of music requires much more than memorization. And, since they were at an excellent level of technical proficiency when it came to the songs, it was time to work on stage presence and truly connecting to the pieces.

_._

"Now, you're certainly not servants who have to blend into the background are you?"

"No, Mrs. Hughes."

"That's a relief -- we wouldn't want to be keeping you from your jobs. " Weak smiles appeared at the tease. "But, let's pretend for a moment you were."

Heads tilted inquisitively, eyes moved in various forms of disbelief. They were already fantastic with "Dashing Away with the Smoothing Iron". Why was there further need to work this much on it?

"Do I really need to remind you of our previous conversation during our 'A Babe Was Born' rehearsal? How, it's just as important to know why you're singing as it is to know what it is you're singing?"

Heads were shaking in response, and a few even murmured equivalents of, "No, that's not necessary, Mrs. Hughes. We remember."

"Good. In that case, I'd like you all to close your eyes for a moment, and breathe in and out." They all were slow on the uptake, so she found herself repeating, "Yes, I'd still like you to close your eyes like so. And breathe in and out like so."

With her eyes closed for a solid ten seconds, she only opened them when she was reasonably sure the students had done as instructed.

"Now then," She was pleased that - even with this unusual exercise - they still followed her lead. "You've all passed by a grand house, say Downton Abbey, for instance?"

They nodded, as she knew they would. After all, anyone who ever came through this neck of the woods inevitably came across Downton Abbey. Whether it was in person or via an advertisement within the town, there was always some encounter with the beautiful place. And, seeing as how the founders of Downton Academy were also charged with taking care of Downton Abbey, it made for a lovely example in this instance.

"Right then. I want you to imagine yourself living within the halls of Downton. In this case, you'd be residing in the servants quarters and working throughout every aspect of the house. Downton Abbey, for the next thirty minutes, is as familiar to you as your own home. And not only that,"

Elsie warmly smiled, watching them slowly relax and hear what she had to say as she continued.

"At Downton there is a special someone you get to work alongside with. Someone who makes the never-ending days far less of a burden, someone who's there by your side when the bells are ringing and there's burdening work that needs doing. Someone you can't always be with at every hour of the day, but someone who makes every hour you see them the most worthwhile hour you can experience."

Elsie paused a moment, almost taken in by her own words. By verbally illustrating this example, she couldn't help the unexpected feelings that began to rise within her. The thoughts of a certain colleague were coming to mind, her imagination now providing a different sort of life - one she never had the chance to experience.

But, if she stops now she will lose them. And so, she puts a stop to those distracting thoughts and continues.

"This someone is your sweetheart. They are your darling. They are the person that makes polishing the silver an enjoyable task. The one who you want to take on errands into town, the person who you will happily remain with for as long you can."

Each student looked absolutely caught up in their own world, eyes still firmly shut while varying degrees of smiles appeared all around.

"I want you to keep thinking of that person, even when I blow the pitch. I want you to keep your eyes closed and your thoughts on that special person when we sing again. Can you do that?"

Silent nods prompted her to take out the pitch pipe once more and let them take it away.

_._

Now, typically, Mr. Carson would have heard her wonderful encouragement to the students - by now, he consistently dropped by two rehearsals every week, if not all three.

However, in this instance, he had some encouragement of his own to receive.

"Mrs. Patmore," He really would much rather ask someone else his little question, but the person in mind was currently busy. And he was currently incredibly cowardly to ask even when she wasn't busy. "I wondered if I might have a word,"

Beryl looked up from her desk, having not expected Charles Carson to appear in her office since the last time he did - when he was showing her the place for the first time all those years ago.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Carson?" She gestured to one of the chairs in the office, watching him take the seat without question.

"The thing is, it's a question about Mrs. Hughes,"

"Oh?"

"You see, I was wondering about -" He cut himself off for once, still searching for the appropriate words.

_I have been questioning my feel-- thoughts on any matter regarding Els- Mrs. Hughes, and had wanted to inquire into her marital status -- namely, is she in fact still married?_

Too tacky and far too long-winded.

_I was wondering as to where Mr. Hughes is? Moreover, I was wondering why I have these occasional thoughts, thoughts that are also intolerably risqué, about a colleague who is married?_

Too melodramatic and, overall, a ghastly way to approach the subject.

"Mr. Carson?"

Her voice certainly shook him out of his thoughts, but it definitely didn't help matters.

"Well, what I mean to ask is, well," _Well, this is just going swimmingly._

"Mrs. Patmore?" Ivy poked her head through the door, oblivious to the mortifying conversation she just interrupted. "Did you see my cell phone here after class?"

"Do I look like I have your phone, Ivy?" Came the borderline-sarcastic response, unintentionally giving Mr. Carson an excuse to get out of his chair.

"Would you like me to ring it?" The girl looked crossed between wanting to say yes and wanting to avoid having the choir director anywhere near her phone.

"No, thank you." Ivy decided on that for a response after a minute of painstakingly hesitation in the form of biting her lip and looking at the floor.

"In that case, I wish you good luck with the matter." He turned back towards his colleague.

"Mr. Carson," Beryl wanted to return back to the unspoken question at hand, which was understandable. However, there was one problem.

See, even though Mr. Carson would normally acknowledge what she wanted, and even though he might ask his little question if she prompted him, a student did just barge in on them.

And a student overhearing this conversation was one of the last things he _ever_ wanted to deal with.

Therefore, it was time to make a retreat that carried enough decorum it could not be classified as "hasty".

"Well, this has been very nice, having a little chat. Thank you for listening, Mrs. Patmore. "

"But, Mr.-"

"I'll leave you to it now." He briskly walked past a now-distressed Ivy, bade them both a good rest to their day, and promptly headed out the door.

Beryl scoffed at this behavior before heaving out a great sigh, remembering why Elsie wanted to throttle the man from time to time.

_Just don't come back here in, twenty years from now, deciding that_ _**that's** _ _when you'll finally ask your question._

It was a simple request Beryl had, one she silently made as she stood up and began to help Ivy in the search for the missing phone.

And, somehow, she highly doubted it was going to be acknowledged.

_._

Even though he should have left the building after that failure of what was already an awkward mission with Mrs. Patmore, Charles found himself once more drawn back to the second fourth floor.

And upon seeing that _Journey_ songs were still nowhere in sight, Charles even allowed himself his ten minutes of "Let's go listen in on the choir and pretend I'm not be staring at Mrs. Hughes the entire time."

It wasn't that Mr. Carson actually categorized this time as such; it was merely that it just so happened to end that way.

See, the voice director truly enjoyed watching the students transform as performers - something that his colleague seemed to bring forth over and over again. He loved watching faces that were always so stiff and so scared slowly melt into expressions of wonder and captivating intensity. He enjoyed watching spines straighten from slouching "zombies" to energized singers.

And, it also just so happens that Charles Carson found himself equally enamored with watching his colleague conduct. Watching her hands swing back and forth between tempos, observing her movement steady their voices and guide them through the hurdles that came with singing with no instruments, it was all so captivating.

So much so, that he almost gave himself away with the amount of times he would fixate his gaze on her.

Fortunately, as far he knew, everyone loved to avoid the gaze of their choir director. Therefore it only made sense that none of the students would have even cared to look in his general direction. Moreover, since she automatically had to have her back to him, there would be no teases or remarks to take his gaze away from the enthralling sight.

And, on a day like today, he intended to take full advantage of that.

" _O,_ "

It was a powerful and soft sound, one that grew from _piano_ to _mezzo-piano_ in the span of a few heartbeats, before fading back into _piano_ once more. The chord progressed when they repeated the vowel once more, rising and falling with just a bit more intensity. But what was more powerful was watching her breathe in the sound, absorbing every note with a grace he had never quite witnessed.

_"Magnum."_

She leaned further into the soul of the piece, gently guiding the sustaining of notes with a marvelous ease - allowing her own emotions to ripple into her conducting.

" _Mysterium,"_

He had been looking forward to seeing how she worked with "O Magnum Mysterium" for weeks. And though they had debated on whether to work with Lauridsen's or Gjeilo's arrangement, it appeared she had decided to go with the latter.

Well, now that he was standing in the room, he could understand why.

" _There's only one problem, Mr. Carson."_ She had confessed in a bit of a hesitant manner, over one of their many lunches spent together.

" _What's that, Mrs. Hughes?"_

She had paused and bit her lip at the time, as though contemplating just how to phrase it. Then she shook her head and dove into the heart of the matter.

" _It wouldn't be true_ a cappella _sound, seeing as Gjeilo's arrangement also requires a cellist."_

He couldn't help but outright chuckle at this, unusually tickled by the fact that she was obviously perturbed by that fact.

And now that he was surrounded by the sound of such beautiful singing he almost wanted to demand that no cellist be involved - just so that they could stay true to _a cappella_ form.

But, that was an irrational demand. Furthermore, the choir director could already hear her argument. After all, it would be quite similar to what his own would have been, if he were in this situation.

For all of Elsie's willingness to step out of the box, she wanted to make sure the selections were still properly done with the justice they deserved. Her students could explore all the types of music they wanted to, they could seek out unique renditions of classic pieces, but she wanted to adhere to what the composer or arranger had marked as vital.

Unless, that is, she found their arrangement to simply be ridiculous.

"Mr. Carson,"

In that case, the arrangement was--

"Mr. Carson, did you even hear what I was saying?"

When had she decided to look right at him?

"Hmm?" Not the best action on his part, but he had been caught off guard.

She sighed, clearly frustrated.

"I was asking for your opinion on the piece. But, seeing as how you were lost in your thoughts for the last minute, I think I have it." He must've really been ignoring her if her words were _that_ sharp.

Luckily, the students knew better than to utter a single word during this little "banter" of theirs. But, in case they didn't quite understand the gravity of the situation, he felt more than justified in sternly glaring at them to emphasize the necessity of staying quiet.

"I do apologize, Mrs. Hughes, I was just caught up in--" The director paused, but it seemed he was determined to speak without thinking. "Well, I just had a thought about the song."

"Oh?" Whatever she had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. 

Fortunately for Charles Carson, even though he hadn't really had any ideas about _this_ song, he could certainly come up with something.

Especially when it gave him yet another chance to pleasantly surprise Elsie Hughes.

_._

It was with six weeks before the concert that Mr. Carson finally felt he could moved forth with an idea. An idea that had greeted him in a soothing space. An idea that had come to life at a rather unexpected time. And an idea he would have never approved nor even though of three months ago.

It was audacious, impulsive, and absolutely something he should not encourage to turn into reality for propriety's sake.

And yet, here he was.

_._

"Well, gentlemen," For even though most of them were still only rambunctious teenagers, he felt that there was no need to lower standards. "Since we've been managing the music far better than before, there is one last piece I would like you to work on in your own time."

He could foresee the groans and the frustration within the men's ensemble and knew just what to say to put a stop to all of that:

"I was thinking we could whip up a little surprise as a thank you for everything Mrs. Hughes has done for us this semester."

As he anticipated, that shut them all up immediately.

_._

"Daisy, how's everything with the choirs now?"

Mrs. Patmore was still curious about what it was Mr. Carson wanted to ask her, but she knew better than to approach him in his office or inviting him back to hers. There was too high a chance of another student dropping by and spooking him once more. Worse still, Elsie could overhear whatever it is he wanted to know if they spoke in his office.

And then he wouldn't speak to Beryl about anything for _years_.

So, in order to avoid scaring the choir director to death with less than six weeks before the concert, it was best to go to a reliable second-hand source instead.

"It's alright, I suppose." Beryl was fantastic with allowing silence to do her work for her, especially with students. "I mean, we're doing well now with most of the music, Mrs. Hughes has helped us to express more, and it's really becoming something _more_ than what it's been."

"But?"

"But, something seems a little different about Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson. Nothing bad, I think. I can't really explain it, really."

"Why don't you give it a try?"

_._

Elsie had stumbled across the photo album quite by mistake. But, curiosity guided her in looking at the photos of previous choir concerts - concerts performed longed before even Mr. Carson was a member of the faculty at Downton.

And, by perusing this particular photo album, she came across an endearingly sweet choir tradition.

_._

"Mr. Carson," Elsie approached him, carefully carrying the photo album as she did so. "I have a question about the concert."

"What is it, Mrs. Hughes?"

She opened the album to the appropriate page, pointing out some particular photos.

"Do you know anything about this tradition?"

He glanced away from his computer, curious. But, upon seeing the photo in question, he nearly scowled - returning back to the emails at hand.

" _That_ tradition is one that the previous voice directors chose to indulge in. It is not one that I have _ever_ planned on continuing."

She sighed a little louder than she'd normally, looking down at the picture herself.

"Well, if you're sure." But, in lieu of putting the photo album back where she found it, Elsie decided to leave it on her colleague's desk instead.

A little reminder of tradition never hurt, after all.


	14. Fainteth Bombshells and Flautists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re only a few chapters away from the concert :) 
> 
> But, before we get there, this is one more eventful tradition of Downton’s that we will be experiencing, a little fun flustering here and there, and one last hint about a certain someone's past…

Everything was going quite well for the most part, in all honesty. All of the students were getting closer and closer to having their music completely off-book, and it was soon becoming a matter of delving into what made each song distinguished in its own right. There were of course some songs that produced a bit of a struggle, some pieces that -- no matter how much the choir in question practice -- brought the occasional frustrated question of, "At this rate, should we even be keeping this song?"

But now it was becoming more about making an authentic connection to the  music instead of merely singing the lyrics with the correct notes. Now was the time for getting even more selective about vowel modification, about enhancing the song in every possible. 

This was a time of intensity blending into understanding. A moment in a choir's journey where almost every student should be beginning to make a greater connection to the piece that will allow them to delve further into why this is vital to the show.

This is also the time when Mr. Carson unintentionally dropped somewhat of a bombshell of an announcement. 

At least, a bombshell for everyone not expecting it.

“Good job today, everyone,” He’d been speaking to men’s ensemble -- their first ensemble of the day. “And, please, remember to inform your parents about Downton Academy’s annual Winter Ball. As always, it is on the first Saturday in December. Therefore, this year, it will be held at 6:00 o’clock in the evening on the 1st of December.”

She turned sharply, having been sat at the piano and flipping through her binder to prepare for the next class. Fortunately, the groans of disappointment coming from half the ensemble made her sudden action quite subtle in comparison.

“Now, you are not inform them in  _ that  _ manner of tone. But, you are to inform them of the opportunity. And, furthermore, you are also highly encouraged to join in the festivities after you perform.” Mrs. Hughes was still staring at him throughout all of this. “For, this year, you will be joining the other choirs in performing one selection from our repertoire.”

“Yes, Mr. Carson.” Came dozens of dejected capitulations, practically voiced in unison.

_._

_ “How Lovely is Thy Dwelling Place? _

_ Oh Lord,” _

She sat at the piano, robotically playing the accompaniment and thinking about everything over again.

_ “Oh Lord, _

_ Oh Lord of Hosts.” _

The announcement had ignited mixed reactions with the Mixed Choir. For the most part, few were surprised and fewer had the negative reactions of the Men’s Ensemble. Though, no one had quite matched the level of enthusiasm the singers of Bel Canto when the ladies had heard they’d be able to perform.

_ “For my soul,” _

Elsie didn’t really know why this was such an issue -- having to go to this “Winter Ball”. 

_ “It longeth yea fainteth _

_ It longeth yea fainteth,” _

It wasn’t as though she’s never dressed up before. Or had to perform at a “fancy” event before .

_ “It longest yea fainteth. _

_ It fainteth, it fainteth,” _

Whatever was bothering her, it wasn’t obvious.

_ “It fainteth--” _

Mr. Carson firmly brought down his hands with a sharp, “No, no-- stop!” 

The choir stilled, taken aback.

“You are the singers of the highest calibre within these walls. You all have spent years becoming far more familiar with the art of singing, far more than your fellow singers.” They looked a little hopeful at this, but he wasn’t finished. "I shouldn't have to correct your 

“Yet your expressions have turned dull for this, your voices are listless in these verses. They are  _ bored  _ as your tone. You know the lyrics, but you are clearly not intimate with the song. Your vowels reflect this boredom -- sinking into consonants far too early even though we have repeatedly tried to modify them.”

Elsie along with all the students was taken aback by this sudden vexation. But, Mr. Carson had been slowly giving them all of this comments about this particular song over the last few weeks -- the rehearsals had just been too brief for this piece that she was surprised he was already this impatient.

“Now, this is the one song we’ve worked least on, I understand that. But, unless we can pull this together by the end of the week, I will be cutting it from the program.”

They all remained respectfully silent, knowing that their director wasn’t finished just yet.

“In this song, you are speaking of how lovely it is to live in the courts of the Lord. How, to live in such a blessed house is something you crave with every fiber of your being.”

Some faces nodded along, as though they knew that the entire time. Others began to agree, even though their eyes showed they didn't really care. And, there were still even a fair amount of students who didn't nod at all -- still silently watching their director.

Something told Elsie that the level of exaltation required for this song was not going to be reached.

  
  


_._

“Well that was quite the rehearsal.” Anna muttered to John as they took their seats for lunch. He nodded grimly.

“We certainly have our work cut out for us.” He looked at their peers. “But, let’s not talk about that right now.”

They definitely didn’t need any more prompting for a change in subject.

“Will you be going to the dance, Anna?” They had all gathered in the cafeteria, taking one of the larger tables for the day. Joseph, Phyllis, Andy, Daisy, William, Anna, John, and even a few others had snagged one of the only tables made for such a crowd.

“Seeing as how my choir will have to perform for a few minutes, Andy,” She couldn’t help but start to tease, “I don’t see why I wouldn’t be.”

“But, will you be staying after the performance?” She turned, surprised at the persistency. 

“I think I might,” She turned, now addressing her own question to John. “Will you be staying yourself, even if we're told we can leave early?”

“I’d hardly think you’d be interested in such a thing,” For someone who came off as meek, Daisy could also be quite the interjector. But John was focused on only Anna when he finally replied.

"I think I might." He echoed her words with a bit of a tease, coaxing surprise and a smile.

And, speaking of the Winter Ball and surprises, another conversation was occurring about three floors above them.

_._

“There’s going to be a dance?” The two had been sitting in companionable silence, working on some miscellaneous paperwork and assignments when the question blurted itself into the room.

“I’m sorry -- what was your question, Mrs. Hughes?” She bit her lip, looking up from her own stack. After all, when the students weren’t working on learning the songs, they were learning music theory -- such as how to read keys, understanding scales, etc. 

“Well, it’s just that I didn’t realize there was to be a dance, that’s all. Or, that we are required to attend.” He nodded, still focused on the papers before him and not really paying attention to the conversation.

“Yes, the Winter Ball is an excellent opportunity to allow the staff, students, parents, and interested members of the community to mingle with one another.”

“I see.” Elsie returned to her paperwork, thinking the situation over. She had nothing against dances or dressing up, not really. It was just a matter of being caught by surprise, having the sneaking suspicion she’d be required to go. And also the fact that she hadn’t had to attend such an event in years -- now that she out of the habit, it all seemed a little foreign to the woman. 

She was also bothered by the fact that all of this  _ did  _ bother her for once, the idea of attending a formal dance. Dressing up, dancing, she remembered it could be fun at times, even when it wasn't familiar. 

And the idea of a dance never resulted in flustering her like a silly schoolgirl for half a day.

“Is there a problem, Mrs. Hughes?” Elsie looked up to discover that a fair amount of time had passed without her noticing.

Not only that, but her colleague had apparently been looking at her for who knows how long.

“Not at all, Mr. Carson. I was merely thinking.” 

And they left it at that.

_._

“I know we’re only supposed to perform, but do you think we’ll get the chance to dance as well?” Rose’s exuberant charm never really faded, even after witnessing it for a few years now.

Unless you were Sarah O’Brien, that is.

If you were such a person, you’d know that the charm didn’t work for even a minute.

_._

“Do you think anyone will be interested in asking us to the ball?”

  
  
Mary rolled her eyes, irritated by Edith’s tone.

But, secretly, even as she snarked out some pithy response the eldest Crawley sister had to confess: the same question had been on her mind.

_._

  
“And just when were you going to tell me about Downton’s Winter Ball?”

Elsie had managed to make it through the school day without throwing Mr. Carson for a loop, successfully maintaining rehearsals and somehow not sparing this “Winter Ball” a second thought after lunch.

But that was only because she knew she’d be having words with Beryl about it.

“Tell you what?” The band director raised an eyebrow, highly unimpressed by her tone but also somewhat amused by whatever it was that was bothering her friend. 

“That there's to be a ‘Winter Ball’ _and_ we have to attend, that’s what.”

“Oh, that?” Funnily enough, Beryl had a feeling this was going to come up. 

And, maybe this related to whatever it is that brought Mr. Carson to her doorstep. But, now was not the time for speculation, especially in that regard.

“Yes, that.” Elsie rolled her eyes, quite unimpressed. “As though this wasn’t something you were well aware of.”

Her friend scoffed in response, seeming irritated but internally busting up. The last time she’d seen Elsie in such a state -- well, let’s just say it’s been a few decades.

“It’s not my fault if I’m trying to do my job. _ ”  _ The woman in question shot her a stare. 

“Oh, yes, I’m sure it’d be impossible to even take a minute to warn a woman when you’ve got your hands full with those flautists.” There was a hint of a playful quality to the snark, something that told Beryl she was hardly in any real trouble today. Besides, they both knew that all the flautists were in excellent form this semester.

“Elsie Hughes, are you insulting instrumentalists of this fine establishment? Instrumentalists hailing from  _ my _ part of this department?” She arched a challenging eyebrow. “For, believe me when I say, your sopranos could use some work themselves!”

“ _ Really,  _ now?” She rolled the “R” quite easily, letting her accent make its presence more noticeable.

“Yes, indeed,” Beryl nodded sharply, poised to continue. But they could only continue this facetious verbal joust for a few more minutes before bursting into much-needed laughter.

“Mrs. Patmore,” Mrs. Bird popped her head in, having one more question for the woman, “Lily, you know the flautist from--” But whatever else was she was going to say was drowned out by the now-roaring chortles intertwined with giggles and snorts currently coming from the two women.

Clearly, something funny had occurred.

Also just as clearly: Mrs. Bird would not be privy to the joke any time soon -- even if her fellow teachers  _ had  _ wanted to share it.

“I’ll come back later.” 

_._

They’d been briskly walking back home together -- the November cold making the journey not quite as nice as normal.

“Sybil,” Normally, Tom Branson was an assured young man who felt comfortable talking about anything under the sun -- politics, choir, academics, “Irish Blessing”, you name it.

Today, he was quite hesitant.

“Yes, Tom?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to-- that is, I had thinking that maybe we should--” He trailed off. 

But, seeing as how they were just talking about choir a moment ago, Sybil suspected she already knew what he was thinking.

“If you were thinking of asking me to go with you to the Winter Ball, I would love to, Tom.” She said, even daring to give him a kiss on the cheek.

But, in his elated surprise, their lips accidentally met instead.

_._

“We’ll have to get new dresses, won’t we?” 

“But, why? A conductor’s attire is to blend in. The attention should be on the performers.” The band director arched an eyebrow at this.

“You mean to tell me that you’re going to wear the only black dress you’ve owned for who knows how long?”

“It still fits, doesn’t it?” The choir teacher defended herself with ease, “And I’ve been through a lot with that dress, as you well know.”

Beryl did indeed know, which is why the room suddenly took a turn for a stifling silence.

“Maybe, because you’ve been through a lot with it,” Elsie looked up at her friend’s words, words that were now spoken far more seriously than anything in the last hour. “It’s time to let it go.”

She froze, a response already dying on her lips before she knew it.

“You don’t have to give it away this very minute,” Beryl somewhat conceded, understanding a little of why Elsie wouldn't be able to do that. “But you could still try something new.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With flautists versus flutist, I wanted to stick to what the internet was leaning towards (flutist) versus what I've heard (flautist). After two minutes of posting though, I realized I still prefer flautist.
> 
> In any case, I hope you've enjoyed today's little chapter!


	15. Waltzes and Winter Balls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is with great pleasure that I give you what is currently the longest chapter of the story! Not only that, I also want to wish you all a very Happy New Year! To celebrate, we have dancing, a hint of drama, a touch of angst and, what I believe to be, an overall sweet chapter. Cheers!

It is a universally unspoken truth that when a choir director wants to use the last four weeks before a concert productively, those weeks fly by without a moment's notice.

Especially when there’s a Winter Ball in the middle of all of it.

_._

“Which songs will they be performing for the dance, Mr. Carson?” After all, seeing as how this was an age old tradition of Downton’s, she was quite willing to let him take over this completely.

“Well, for the beginner girls, ‘I Saw Three Ships’ is a perfectly acceptable piece. When it comes to Bel Canto, they’re brimming with confidence when it comes to ‘Carol of the Bells’.” She nodded, having caught that herself. “Hark the Herald’ of course for the Men’s Ensemble, and ‘Sleep, Little Baby” felt appropriate for the Advanced Mixed.

“Of course,” Charles continued, “It did not feel appropriate to select a piece for the  _ a cappella  _ group. That choice, I feel, should be yours.” She smiled slightly, appreciative of the gesture. Elsie understood the desire for control when it came to directing, and knew that this little choice was quite a privilege. But that wasn't the only pleasant surprise in store, not in the slightest.

“I also had a thought about changing up the routine a little bit this year.”

“Oh?” Throughout these last few months, she never she’d hear Mr. Carson even dreaming of changing his own routines and traditions.

Little did the choir teacher realize, there had been  _ quite _ a few changes in several of his routines and traditions since her arrival.

“Typically the choirs selected to perform would run through their pieces -- with the Advanced Mixed Choir finishing the show.” Beryl had already explained this routine to her: every year, certain ensembles from each section of the music department would perform for the Winter Ball, with the audition-only choir finishing the set. 

Still, even if she knew the traditional set-up, she had no need to interrupt and announce as such -- it would only take away from whatever new idea he had in mind.

“And since every choir will be performing this year, why not practice one of the pieces in the show that requires every ensemble?” Elsie’s smile continued to expand once she realized he was waiting for her thoughts on the matter.

“I think that's an excellent idea, Mr. Carson. Did you have a particular piece in mind?”

“Well, now that you mention it,” He began and, much to her delight, it had been the very song she’d been hoping he’d suggest.

_._ 

“Beryl, what are we doing?” They detoured on the walk back home, stopping into the village and “magically” finding themselves at the entrance of a resale clothing shop. 

“Oh, dear, I do believe Mr. Carson is in there,” 

“What?” Beryl snickered as Elsie took her gaze away from the store front and back towards her friend. “That wasn't funny, Beryl.”

“Oh, but I do believe I see him there and --” She stood up on her tiptoes for a better look through the window. “Is that Mrs. Butte he’s speaking to?”

“Why would Mrs. Butte be in a charity shop now of all times?” But, having never met Mrs. Butte, Elsie opened the door -- so as to just take a quick look and properly confirm for herself, of course.

“Hello!” A polite and unusually cheerful woman stood behind the counter. “Were you interested in trying anything on?”

“Oh, I don’t believe--” “We are quite interested, thank you!”

“Changing rooms are in the back. If you need anything, let me know!”

After a moment of scanning the shop, Elsie’s suspicion was confirmed: they were the only people in the space.

“Elsie, look!” The woman found herself being firmly pushed towards a section of black dresses. “Perfect conducting attire right there, just waiting for you!”

“You know as well as I that those most of those are  _ not  _ an appropriate length for conducting, Beryl!” She snorted at this, hardly intimidated by her friend’s cross tone.

“I’m sure Mr. Carson won’t mind!” She continued on, ignoring her dear friend’s scandalized expression. “‘Sides, all you said was that it had to be black. Never said anything about the length.”

Only Beryl Patmore was foolis-- brave enough to say such things to Elsie’s face. Luckily, before any scathing remarks were made, the shop assistant materialized seemingly out of nowhere.

"If you're interested in something grander," Both Elsie and Beryl jumped at the sound. "We have more extravagant dresses in the back of the shop."

"Do you now?"

_._

For the next few days, time seemed to be waltz by any and all who were to perform at the dance. There were dips of tension in the form of, “But, you already have a date for the dance?” and twirls of drama in cries of just how "unfair” it was that “as a performer, I can’t just enjoy the show!” 

And, soon enough, November 30th was spinning into the 1st of December.

_._

They’d arrived a little before everyone else, so as to stay true to their academic obligations and make sure everything was in order.

At least, that was his excuse. Hers was wanting to finally see Downton Abbey from the inside. 

_ Well, now’s as good as any a time to finally ask her about it.  _

“Mrs. Hughes, I was wondering: will Mr. --” He finally started to ask, turning back to his companion.

“Have you ever seen such a hall?” She hadn’t heard him at all, rather entranced by the ornate set-up. “I haven’t seen such a festive or grand place in quite a while.”

With the enormous tree and the beautiful lights adorning much of the Main Hall, that meant the instrumentalists and singers would be stationed on the balcony if they couldn't fit on the main floor. This would give the hall the closest equivalent to “surround sound” possible, while allowing the performers from needing a great deal of stage presence. And, just from listening to the noise in the space, she could tell that it would have fantastic resonance and the likes. 

In short, Elsie Hughes was really very impressed.

“This is your first Winter Ball, I take it?” Charles couldn’t help but ask with only a hint of audacity. She sent him a look for it and, instead of repeating his first question, he took the coward’s way out. “I must admit that when Downton Abbey is decorated like this, I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to live in such a place.”

“I can certainly understand that. Though,” She faltered in her train of thought. “I don’t know if I really would want to live with all the glamour and prestige.”

“What about glamour and prestige?” Beryl had snuck up on them, positively grinning at the fact that she knew she surprised them.

“I take it the students are arriving then?” Charles asked, feeling a little disappointed now that the band director had joined them, oddly enough.

“They are indeed.” She cocked an eyebrow at his reaction, deciding to dismiss any further thought about it. “But, before we get this party started,” 

The woman held up a reusable bag filled with what looked to be quite stunning clothes. Charles watched the revealing of this bag with interest -- noting that Elsie seemed to stiffen at its presence.

_ Curiouser and curiouser. _

“Are you sure that’s quite necessary?” Beryl sent her a look that spoke of a very long story Charles was certainly not privy to. 

“Yes, I am.”

“But, what I’m wearing is perfectly acceptable.” And it was -- she currently wore a sensible black dress that was buttoned all the way. Full sleeves accompanied the piece to give the woman the look of the classic, and classically stern, teacher. It was an outfit that was only slightly more conservative than what the woman normally wore.

So, frankly, it hadn’t even occurred to Charles, after seeing his colleague this evening, that she would choose to wear something else for this evening. Though, there may have been a previous wonderment of what exactly she'd be wearing in the first place.

“What you are wearing belongs to the Edwardian era, Elsie, not the 21st century!”

“But--”

“I suspect that we may need to appease Mrs. Patmore in order to have a successful evening.” Elsie swiveled around to glare at him, but he was far too fascinated with whatever was in that bag to be intimidated by her this time. “Don’t worry about setting up; I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Carson, you're a very wise man. And I promise you won’t regret this.” Beryl, her grin returning tenfold as she dragged the other woman in the direction of the current changing rooms.

“If set-up goes awry, Mr. Carson, don’t go blaming me.” Elsie chose to warn instead of thank him like her infuriating friend just did. “And if half the attendees are scarred for life, you can absolutely blame Beryl.”

_._

“Come on, Edith, Mary -- we’ll be late!” Sybil was already dressed in the appropriate concert attire, waiting for her sisters at the door.

“We’ll be right down, Sybil!” 

Which was the same thing that Edith had informed her about fifteen minutes ago.

_ Oh, why couldn’t Tom be here already? _

_._

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” They came back less than thirty minutes later, both women now dressed for the evening.

“Oh, yeah, you look real awful.” Beryl quipped with an eye roll.

It's true that everyone always looked quite sharp at these sorts of occasions -- honestly, it was one of the aspects that Charles really enjoyed most about this. 

But, even with that in mind, it hadn’t struck him just how entrancing Elsie would look until she was walking towards him.

_._

The students were the second group to arrive -- having to help with setting up along with their teachers. 

Though, once John got a glimpse of Anna, any idea of helping with the set-up was lost to him.

“You look lovely,” He quietly remarked, watching her head his way. Now, she was wearing the same gown every woman in Advanced Mixed did.

But, on her, it was as though she were the only singer in the world wearing it.

The dress was sleeveless, having been made in an A-line style. There was a white satin sash right underneath the bust line that tied together in the back. This sash of white complemented the bateau neckline that kept the lack of sleeves from classifying the dress as “risque”. And the black fabric that formed the overall piece seemed to float above the ground, not quite shimmering in the light but not quite absorbing the light for that matter.

He found himself quite transfixed by it all, especially by the way she wore it.

“I think it’s an acrylic knit of sorts. Mum said something about sateen, but there’s no tag on it to say either way.” He blinked at this, not caring the least about the name of the fabric. “I had wondered the same myself when I first saw them.”

She glanced around, absolutely oblivious to the effect that her presence had on him.

“Have you seen Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes?”

“Erm,” He was normally one for silence, but it seemed that this evening was to be different in more than one way.

“Oh, never mind -- they look busy.” Anna took a closer look. “Mrs. Hughes looks quite lovely! Wouldn’t you say, John?”

He briefly turned to the teachers, but couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

“Yeah. Lovely.”

She still was absolutely oblivious.

_._

Charles didn’t truly want to perform tonight. Not when he could simply observe the room and converse with the beautiful woman before him.

“So, just to run through the order once more,” Elsie began to speak. Little did she know, she could have proposed to burn down the school to Charles and he would have said yes without a second thought -- that’s how distracted he was.

Beryl watched them both with amusement, mentally busting up with laughter at the interaction.

Elsie’s dress, the cause of such distraction, did have similarities to the first piece of the evening. Both dresses were black and both had sleeves coming almost to her wrists. Both did come off as tastefully conservative, and both certainly wouldn’t cause any sort of scandal within the music department of Downton Academy.

It also just so happened that the dress she now wore was found to be  _ far  _ more fitting of the 21st century.

Unlike the dress of the Advanced Mixed ensemble, Elsie's contained no sash. And, unlike her first dress of the evening, she no longer gave the impression of being Professor McGonagall for the modern-day school.

The beading blended splendidly into lace and tulle with the princess-like shape regally flaring out at the bottom. As she moved, whether that was through gestures or walking, the gown shimmered with a poised refinement. It glowed proudly within the room, reflecting the beautifully soft lighting that filled the hall with uncanny ease. Furthermore, the gown itself was quite flattering for Elsie as a whole, hugging her form rather nicely without making it seem vulgar or tasteless. In particular, it had drawn attention to lovely aspects to the woman that Charles had never taken the time to truly notice or appreciate.

In short, she made the grandeur of Downton Abbey look cheap in comparison.

And he really couldn't stop staring.

Charles hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her when she first came into sight. And though he wasn’t drooling or gaping like some of the other attendees tonight certainly would be, he certainly couldn’t deny that her gown this evening had quite the impact on him.   


Moreover, upon her turning towards Beryl, the man noticed that the back of the dress exposed much more than he anticipated. He also realized that her skin was far more stunning than he had previously noted -- the milky white shade adding even more to the exhilarating, bewitching radiance about her.

These realizations only made the room seem a bit hotter than expected -- which certainly hadn’t a problem Charles had had in previous years. Additionally, these realizations provoked more whispers of dizzying hope within him -- hope that craved more than "pat-a-cake" friendship or the kindred companionship that came from working close with lovely colleagues.   


There was just one problem:

He couldn't intentionally do anything as long as she carried that ring. So long as Mr. Hughes remained in the picture -- as invisible as the man seemed to be in this moment -- Charles would be overstepping absolutely no boundaries. They would be the best of coworkers, maybe even brilliant friends.   


But there would be nothing more. 

"Mr. Carson, is my dress truly that distasteful?" She noticed his frown, though he had hidden it well. "I knew I should've just kept on the first dress and called it a day."   


"Certainly not!" He spoke without thinking, having been stuck in his thoughts. "To say you look stunning or gorgeous, Mrs. Hughes, would be to call this hall ‘pretty’. And if you were to shed this magnificent ensemble in favor of that first dress, an item that is now hardly deserving of that privilege, you would be doing the maker of this gorgeous gown a grave disservice."   


Elsie felt a blush spread across her cheeks and throughout her body, rather taken aback by the unexpectedly high praise. Having heard such a statement, she was quite willing to go on wearing the dress for the evening. So willing was she, that the woman felt the urge to quickly reassure her friend that she had no intention of changing her outfit now.   


"Don't worry, Mr. Carson: in honor of such a compliment, I can assure you that you’ll be the first to know when I’m 'shedding this ensemble'."    


Only after the words were stated did she realize that they could be interpreted in quite an indecorous fashion.

But it was too late: 

Charles was now matching the carpet while Beryl was grasping the closest table for any support -- indulging in quite an undignified guffaw.

_._

“Do you think they’re alright?” Daisy stood near William, having heard Mrs. Patmore’s laughter all the way from the other side of the room. “I’ve never seen Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes so red before!”

William looked in the direction in question, observing the teachers for a few seconds.

“I think it’d be best to leave them be until it’s time to sing, Daisy.” He eventually said, before ushering her towards to the food. 

“If you say so.”

_._

Soon enough, Mrs. Bird joined her colleagues -- watching them recover from whatever joke she had missed. While she was frustrated to have missed a funny moment, she was somewhat mollified by the fact that the choir director was still deeply blushing from whatever had been said. Not only that, but the only person who may have been blushing more was Mrs. Hughes.

That made for quite an interesting innuendo. And Beryl would undoubtedly be filling her in at a more appropriate time.

Luckily for the pair, their bosses were now entering the building -- allowing for a breath of decorum and professionalism to descend among the quartet of teachers.

“Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes, Mrs. Patmore, Mrs. Bird, we’re so looking forward to the evening’s performances!” Cora warmly greeted them upon entering the space, wearing a gorgeous periwinkle gown that absolutely complemented the woman. “Was I correct in hearing that there will be a shift in our traditional set-up?”

“That would be quite correct, Mrs. Crawley.” Charles spoke for the group, having taught at Downton the longest. “We decided it would be best for the choirs to start the night off before alternating between the band, orchestra, and choir. And there will be a wonderful range of music, from Bach to Ola Gjeilo.”

“Well,” Robert looked a little out of his league with the conversation’s material. But he seemed to be making up for it with enthusiasm. “I’m sure we will be for quite the treat!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Elsie stated, as Beryl and May verbalized their own agreements.

And so, with more and more guests arriving, the Winter Ball officially began.

_._

_ “On Christmas Day, _

_ In the morning!”  _

Mrs. Hughes encouraged the Beginner Choir to hold out their notes for just a few more seconds as Mr. Carson carried on at the keyboard sequestered in the corner. 

_ “On Christmas Day in the morning!” _

The bell ringers of the bunch chimed at the appropriate times, the ladies had even more smiles than normal, and it was with a sigh of relief that Elsie was able to take finally join the party -- if only for a few moments.

“We’ll take it from here, Mrs. Hughes,” Mrs. Bird quietly spoke to the woman, sending her off in the direction of the punch as her instrumentalists took the places of the singers. 

_._

“When did you eat last?” 

He'd heard her stomach growl, did he?

“I’m not sure.” It wasn’t so much of a lie as it was simply not focusing on recalling the truth.

“We have a few minutes before the next song. Please make sure to eat something in the meantime.” She silently asked for more patience with the man, hungry enough to become more than a little frustrated with the mother-hen tone she was now receiving.

“Mr. Carson--”

“I would hate for you to suffer or collapse in the name of music, Mrs. Hughes.” Elsie glanced at him as he continued. “Besides, if you were to collapse, I doubt you’d find your options for resuscitation all that desirable.”

An eyebrow raised, silently challenging his statement.

“Don’t tell me; Violet Crawley is the only one who knows CPR?” She dryly threw out the thought, causing him to quietly chuckle.

“Not quite.” He looked away briefly, admiring the band ensemble now performing. “The nearest certified person would be myself, actually.” 

She paused a moment, thinking it over. This was a dangerous game being played, especially with her feelings that incessantly continued to grow over the last few weeks. 

_ And it’s not only that,  _ she thought to herself, glancing down at the ring still adorning her finger. What had normally been a joyous symbol was now something she felt unusually detached about.

But her feelings and that ring were also the two things that dictated the need for more consideration than normal.

“Although I have no interest in collapsing today,” Elsie began quietly, almost too softly to be heard. “The options for ‘resuscitation’ do not necessarily sound undesirable.” 

Charles froze, not sure as to what she was really saying.

“And, now, we welcome the Bel Canto choir with a fantastic  _ a cappella  _ version of ‘Carol of the Bells’!”

He chose to feign ignorance in lieu of harming his relationship as they returned to their spots.

_._

“It’s like clockwork, isn’t it?” Mrs. Patmore remarked to her orchestral comrade in arms as they observed Bel Canto ladies in action. Currently, most of the women were in the process of imitating bells whilst the first sopranos carried the melody.

_ “One seems to hear, _

_ Words of good cheer!” _

“Only, it probably doesn’t feel like clockwork to her, does it?” To her credit, Mrs. Hughes was a professional who hid her tiredness and frazzled energy quite well.

The only problem was, the other professional performers in the room could see right through it.

Though, unlike the choir director, they could do something about it.

_._

Beryl approached her friend with a small plate of hor d'oeuvres and enough obstinacy to get her to accept said plate.

Charles at least had more finesse in his own request. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a moment to sit down in order to eat? I’m sure the Men’s Ensemble would be happy to step in ahead of schedule. And we would not require your presence, not if you needed to sit.”

“No, Mr. Carson, I’ll be fine.” Really, it’s not as though she hadn’t done several events just like this in her younger years. After all, you had to be quite flexible as a performer if you wanted to make a living out of it.

Her only problem was, her younger years were not her current years.

And, not only Elsie was running through a whirlwind of emotions mixed with adrenaline, she was also ignoring her body’s need to take it easy in order to keep the show running.

Elsie would have to officially stop soon -- that’s for certain.

But, as she started to consume the delicious food, she grew even more determined to finish off conducting before she finally sat down again.

_._

_ “The angels came down with one cry,”  _

And in a minute, so would her back.

_ “A fair song that night sung they.”  _

If she didn’t have to do anything involving “fair songs” for the rest of night, she’d die a happy woman.

_ “In worship of that child,”  _

No more worshipping or conducting for Elsie Hughes. Once this last segment was completed, she could retire to the piano in peace.

_ “Gloria tibi Domine!” _

Her hands held out their notes with practiced ease. Only once an appropriate crescendo was reached did she finally let them go and had them gently fall back down to her sides.

_._

“There is something to be said for back-to-back performances that really aren’t back-to-back, Mr. Carson.” He glanced back at her questioningly, glad they finally were done with every ensemble. For now, she could take a proper break before the finale at the end of the dance.

“Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Hughes?”

“The normal adrenaline rush that carries you through a whole concert seems to come and go repeatedly in a set-up like this. In some ways, I’d prefer a straight-through two-hour performance at a concert over these 5 minute sets.” She was still all smiles when she admitted this, seeing as how they were still walking through their audience. But, he could detect the weary feeling underneath the happy demeanor. 

He wanted to help her any way he could. And seeing as how it was still far too hot in the room, he felt it only appropriate to offer a suggestion that might help.

“Mrs. Hughes, would you care to take a walk around the gardens?” Elsie looked up at this. “The air could be quite refreshing.”

“Perhaps later. Right now, I just want a place to sit.” He refrained from offering one of the benches in the gardens, knowing that the cold weather wouldn’t necessarily be that kind to them if they sat outside.

“Mr. Carson,” It was Cora, calling him away for something. “I wanted to ask you something about the choirs, if you have a moment.”

“Go on,” Elsie said, that smile becoming a little more strained than it had been a second ago. “I’ll find a place to rest. And, no worries -- I won't be back on my feet for quite a bit.”

He didn’t particularly care to walk in the direction of Mrs. Crawley, now that it was beginning to register just how tired his colleague was. His fellow choir teacher had leaned on him more than normal as they walked, her eyes held a look of tired determination to maintain the show, and the fact that she was not fighting him on the matter spoke of how much she required rest.

But being called away was probably for the best. Seeing Elsie in such a state seemed to throw all thoughts of propriety out of the window. He found himself wanting to guide her away from the dance altogether, to carry her out of Downton Abbey and take her somewhere she could rest uninterrupted. But that train of thought led to reminiscing over her earlier comment -- a comment that he recognized was spoken from an innocent mind, but a comment that provoked several images that were absolutely  _ not  _ appropriate.

In short, his control was slipping. And Charles could not afford that. Why it was doing so in the first place was a mystery he certainly didn’t care for. But, it was also an enigma he had no time to understand.

“Mr. Carson,” For, unfortunately, Cora was not the only one calling for him.

And Violet Crawley was not someone that one could afford to lose control around.

_._

Elsie had meant to find a chair or bench to sit down on, but ended up wandering down some stairs and into what had to be the downstairs area. Honestly, by this point, she was quite close to just curling up on the floor -- even if it’d end up making a mess of what was currently her best performance dress.

Luckily, the woman had made a right turn after the stairs and found a stool waiting her in what had to have once been the kitchen. And once she had sat down, the eventful week finally caught up with her -- to the point where she found herself closing her eyes for a minute and resting her head against the table in relief.

Elsie didn’t know how long she ended up dozing. Nor did she know if she missed any crucial part to the Winter Ball. The choir teacher only knew that she found herself waking up to the sound of footsteps some time later. And, before she could think her actions through, she heard herself unwittingly addressing the sound.

“Hello?” She felt a bit foolish for calling out, seeing as how her calling out is what halted the footsteps.

“Mrs. Hughes?” Charles was one of the last people she expected to see down here, especially with the party still in full swing. 

“Mr. Carson, what brings you here?” He looked a bit taken aback by her also being here, but eventually answered the question.

“While the style of upstairs always intrigues me,” He started to confess, having stopped in the entrance of the hall he’d been wandering. “I find myself repeatedly drawn to this space over the years.” She nodded, understanding both his answer and the appeal.

“What room were you walking towards? If I may ask.”

He turned, looking back at the door with a sense of inquisition. 

“It’s the butler’s pantry, Mrs. Hughes.” He stated, almost walking back to it now. She stood up from the stool, slowly walking towards him while scanning her surroundings.

“Which would probably make that the room for the housekeeper,” She figured, pointing to another nearby. He glanced back at her, intrigued by her guess -- seeing as how it happened to be an accurate assessment. 

“I do know more than it may seem, Mr. Carson. Though, in this case, it was just instinct.”

“I have no doubt of your intelligence, Mrs. Hughes. I am simply taken aback by how knowledgeable you truly are.” She directed her gaze away from these rooms and back towards him, blushing at the praise once more.

_ That’s twice that you’ve made me blush this evening, Mr. Carson _ , is what she wants to coyly whisper as she demurely advances. She even wants to “unintentionally” close the space between them and corner him, all the while softly murmuring that it’s her turn to repay the favor.

She doesn’t.

Elsie chose to stay right where she was, content to observe everything. His emotions are something she still can’t fully read, unintentionally causing her own feelings to become questionable. And in this space, in this quiet little hideaway from the world, it almost felt like anything could go.

There was definitely a change between them tonight. 

And there certainly something that was different about this whole evening. 

Maybe it was the fact that they weren’t in the school. The realization that they didn’t have to be choir instructors within these precious minutes. Perhaps it was the fact that they were both dressed to the nines, running on the rush of creating vocal excellency. It may have even been that the adrenaline that always came with performing was quite possibly pushing all decorum and reason away this evening. 

It could be that they both like each other, plain and simple. That, underneath his prestigious bluster and her teasing wit there lay a fondness that wanted to delve into something far more intimate.

She likes to think that  _ that  _ is it.

But, she believes that's not reality.

This is her colleague. Someone who is incredibly professional and is always focused on bringing forth the most decorum possible. This is the man who prides himself on maintaining as much propriety as possible, who prefers a world full of refinement and elegance over gaudy displays of emotion. 

Whatever Elsie may feel for Charles couldn't possibly reflect anything that he would feel for her. And, even if he did feel some sort of desire, he didn’t know the truth behind her ring. Therefore, he would never engage in any sort of behavior and she wouldn’t want him to -- not without knowing the whole story. 

Because if he did, it wouldn’t be him.

And frankly, the woman’s far too tired for these sorts of thoughts. Tonight should’ve been an elegant breeze, reminding her of the joys that came with grand parties. Instead it’s brought her to this tranquil, old-fashioned area that she still doesn’t want to leave. It’s given her endless fantasies swathed in charmeuse and dazzling shades of black -- but fantasies that can’t be anything other than fictional. 

Her purpose now is to teach and direct. Relationships not of a platonic nature would only cause distraction for her and unwittingly harm her students’ development as singers. And the only person she has these irrational desires for is the one person who understands how much more important it is to enrich the lives of their charges.

The decision in this moment is clear, with this realization. She feels it's time to get back to where they were most likely needed, before they do something they both regret.

“Shall we rejoin the others then?” She finds herself offering the party as an excuse to leave this entrancing space, to go back to normality. Because this is the only appropriate thing they can do, to leave this little hideaway and rejoin a necessary reality.

“Before we do,” She had already begun to turn away when he eventually spoke, “Is this your first time downstairs?”

Elsie found herself turning back to Charles, except he’s somehow closer than he’d been a moment ago. Much closer and much more interested in her than the downstairs area, it seemed.

“Mr. Carson,” She began to dryly remind him, “As I mentioned to you before, this is the first time I’ve been in this house.” 

He smiled, silently conceding the fact that he already knew the answer to his question.

“In that case,” Charles gently offered his arm, letting the other gesture to the area around them. “I do believe a proper tour is in order.”

The party must’ve gotten to him, if he felt this was appropriate. She herself was struggling to withhold her confusion at this offer.

“Wouldn’t this ‘tour’ be abandoning the dance?” He almost scoffed, much to her surprise.

“They will be engaged with frivolities for at least another forty more minutes. So long as we return in time to conduct the final song, we won’t be missed.” At this sound reasoning, she couldn’t help but accept his offered arm.

He brightened at this, unintentionally taking away all thoughts on why this was probably a terrible idea with just his beaming gaze.

And, so, they proceeded to begin the tour. 

“Now, although I do have an admiration for Downton Abbey as a whole, I confess you would be missing something quite integral if you ignore the downstairs.”    


“Is that so?” 

“Yes.” He brought them to a stop, and she looked back to meet his gaze once more. “For, the grandeur and the style of the house would have relied on these people.”

She nodded, able to draw a fitting comparison immediately.

“These are your baritones who maneuver everywhere possible to fill in any gaps. Your basses and altos that support the necessary, beautiful foundation. The people that allow the sopranos and tenors to soar above the rest of us.” He echoed her nod as they continued to start walking once more.

“Now, you and I know that each part within a choir is integral. Furthermore, we both know that each part is magnificent in its own right, and that it is imperative to recognize that. That to not acknowledge this or to demean even one of them is frankly abhorrent.”

“Indeed.” Adrenaline wasn’t coming back to guide her steps this time. Now, it was a simple curiosity that brought her forth. 

“As such, wouldn’t you agree that it is vital we pay our respects?” A reassuring fascination began to guide them both through the hallways.

“Absolutely.” It was a calming thought, paying respects to these people. 

Furthermore, the sopranos and tenors could wait a few more minutes.

_._

Beryl looked around the glamour and the glitter, desperate to find a friend -- even said friend had to come in the form of Violet Crawley.

“Mrs. Patmore? Is everything alright?” Well, he wasn' t Elsie, but he would suffice.

“Oh, Mr. Mason,” She said, relief more evident than she’d have liked. “Am I glad to have found you.”

And just in time, too.

“Beryl? Is that you?” She internally cringed as Jos Tufton, her now ex-husband, approached them.

“Mr. Tufton,” She began, trying not to sound irritated that he was still following her around after she had already repeatedly said she wasn’t interested in ever seeing him again. “What brings you here tonight?”

“Well, as you know, I am one of the finest food suppliers for Downton Academy. As such, I simply had to come by and inspect the best of the best properly.” He even had the nerve to wink at her with a bumptious grin as he spoke -- as though these actions were “endearing” after everything that had happened between the two of them. 

“Yes, well,” Mrs. Patmore gestured to the food that was on the other side of the room, “I do believe your inspection will have to happen over there.”

“Of course. As it happens, I was wondering if I could have the pleasure of a dance first? For old times sake?” 

It had only been a few months since they finally were officially divorced and he  _ still _ wanted to play this sort of game with her? 

_ How dare he -- _ Mr. Mason began to speak up, to interject and say something in defense of his friend, but he never got the chance.

“Oh, I am sorry, Mr. Tufton.” Though Beryl didn’t sound sorry in the slightest. “But I just promised Mr. Mason the next few dances.”

“I see.” The arrogant grin faded a bit, much to their unashamed delight. “Well, I best be off then.” 

He lumbered off in retreat, heading back towards the food. Beryl sighed in relief, irritated he had asked in the first place and grateful he’d left her alone. 

Honestly, the only reason she was still calling herself “Mrs. Patmore” -- even when married she’d never been “Mrs. Tufton” at Downton Academy -- was because some part of her clung to the idea of marriage. It felt foolish and childish to do so, but it was still true.

And it was also something she didn’t really want to think about tonight.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Mason,” She remarked to her friend, who was still quiet. “You’re free to go.”

“And miss the pleasure of your company? I’d rather not.” He took in her own simple, yet elegant black attire: the full sleeves and floor length allowed for the off-the-shoulder neckline to feel dazzling instead of dismaying for the woman. And the ornamental silver clasped the front of the dress shimmered ever so lovely in the light. 

  
She smiled at his statement, choosing to shrug in response.

“In that case, shall we?"

But, thought Mr. Tufton would be leaving Beryl Patmore alone, he wasn’t done making trouble for the night….

_._

They made it back from the downstairs area with time to spare -- the party was still in full swing, everyone was either dancing or enjoying themselves in some other fashion, and Robert looked nowhere near ready to make start making his final remarks for the evening.

“Well, it looks like our timing was perfect.” The choir teacher murmured to him as discreetly as she could. The director nodded, eyes still scanning for any sign of trouble. 

The problem was, trouble was about to come in far closer than he could have anticipated.

“Oh, pardon me, ma’am.” Charles felt Elsie almost get pushed into him with dismay, quickly catching her as the stranger passed through. 

“Watch where you’re going!” Charles found himself saying, finding himself rather taken aback by the stranger’s careless audacity.

“Quite sorry about that I am, really.” The stranger, a stocky man who probably just barely reached Mrs. Patmore’s height, leered at her -- much to both of their disdain. “I hope it wasn’t too disagreeable an incident.”

Charles didn’t particularly care for his tone, nor for the way that Elsie’s own voice had stiffened considerably when she next spoke.

“Mr. Tufton, I presume?” There was a hint of vexation in it, one that the voice director was glad it was not directed at him for once.

“I see my reputation precedes me.” His toothy grin expanded at this, and the man gave a slight bow in her direction. “And who might you be, dearie?”

_ Someone too worthy to be in your presence, that’s for sure.  _ Came the dark, scathing thought. 

“I am Elsie Hughes, one of the choir teachers at Downton.”

“‘Elsie Hughes’? And what a nice name it is, too!” He fixed his gaze and his grin on her in a manner Charles most certainly did not approve of. “Would you care for a dance, Miss Elsie Hughes? It’d be quite agreeable for me, of that I can assure you.” 

The choir director felt her bristle, knowing that her irritation was bubbling into proper ire. And, truly, he knew by now that she wasn’t the type of person to let people speak for her when she was getting that angry. 

But, even with that knowledge, he couldn’t help it.

“ _ Mrs _ . Hughes,” He interjected boldly, “Actually has no interest, seeing as how she has already promised me a dance.”

And before Mr. Tufton had a chance to respond, Charles was already guiding them back towards the dance floor. 

“Has she now?” His companion asked after a while, and he blanched at this -- clearly having forgotten himself. Moreover, what would Mr. Hughes think of this matter -- if the man ever showed up?

“Mrs. Hughes, I am sorry.” She raised an eyebrow at this, “I just couldn’t stand the sight of such an appalling man trying to take advantage of you.”

“Never mind that now.” She dismissed the apology, not truly upset. Furthermore, she did understand where her colleague was coming from, even if his approach wasn’t quite one she’d approve of. “Though I do believe he’s still watching us.”

“In that case, might I make a peculiar request?” Elsie looked at him, waiting for the request to be revealed.

“I’m on the edge of my seat, Mr. Carson,” She couldn’t help remarking after a moment, quite curious. “Do tell.”

“Mr. Carson, there you are! I just wanted to say how delightful this evening has been so far, especially listening to the choirs!”

Isobel Crawley really had the worse of timing sometimes. Elsie Hughes greatly admired the woman for her wit, her blunt attitude, and her ability to show kindness towards others in the world. 

But, right now, she felt no fondness for the woman. 

_._

The closing remarks, fueled by alcohol and merriment, were surprisingly short and sweet. And, now, it was time for every choir student to take their place on the balcony for one final, enchanting song.

_._

Much to her surprise, Elsie had the privilege of conducting the last piece. They had briefly bickered beforehand, she feeling that she didn’t have the right and he being of the belief that she should conduct one of the songs she brought into the choirs.

Eventually, she was persuaded -- maybe by the pleading look in his eyes, or the fact that he was being rather sweet about this -- to take charge of the choirs one last time for the evening. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” She announced from the balcony. “Our final piece this evening will be performed by all the Downton choirs. We will be singing ‘O Magnum Mysterium’, also referred to as ‘Serenity’, by Ola Gjeilo. We hope that you enjoy this divine piece.”

She made sure everyone was in their stations before she did anything else. Many singers took to the balconies, many more blended into the crowd on the main floor. 

All were waiting for her hands to rise into the air and begin the last performance for the evening.

_._

  
  


_ “Dominum,”  _

Elsie was pleased to report that the singers had not lost any of their energy throughout the evening.

_ “Christum,”  _

Nor did the crowd, for that matter.

_ “Alleluia.” _

She finally let her hands sink back to her sides, after the singers held out the last magnificent notes. When the applause came, she could only smile and refrained, directing the applause towards the people most deserving -- the choirs, the cellist, and Mr. Carson. 

He, of course, gestured right back at her -- as though to command the audience to also clap for her. 

Naturally, they happily complied.   
  


_ _._ _

Cleaning up after dinner and a show was always made easier when there was classical music playing in the background. And, thanks to the wonders of Pandora, the students didn’t need to stay behind and continue playing as the teachers went about tidying the place.

_._

“Mrs. Hughes, I do believe we’ve forgotten something.” She was distracted by casting her gaze over the hall for the twentieth time that hour. They had already sent Beryl and May off for the evening, having said that they could take care of everything else.

“What have we forgotten, Mr. Carson?” He was silent for a moment, having thought his next words through for quite a little while now.

“Earlier, when Mrs. Crawley had interrupted us to compliment the choirs,” Something he had not really cared for at the time, even if it did help his choirs. "I had been attempting to make what I still believe will come off as a peculiar request."

She faintly smiled at this, having been curious about the matter since he'd last spoken of it.

"And, just what is this 'peculiar' request?" He took a moment to himself, hoping that this wouldn't seem too forward or overstepping his bounds with this. 

“May I have this next dance?” 

Elsie's eyes widened slightly, her breath stopped for a moment, and she just stood there -- stunned. Walking around to give a tour is one thing, dancing is quite a different matter altogether.

And one that made her rethink her earlier belief that he shared none of her feelings. 

“I do hope you’re not asking because of obligations. I’d hate for you to feel that you have to dance with me now just because you told Mr. Tufton as such.”

“It has nothing to do with obligation.” Far from it. 

_ Heavens, _ Elsie couldn’t help but think, unsure of what he was trying to imply. Her protesting thoughts from earlier were struggling to form coherent reason. This wasn’t wrong per se, but to indulge in dancing of all things would surely cross some a line -- something he might deeply regret after tonight.

“Of course, I understand if you’d rather not.” Charles began to speak up again, beginning to widen the space between them even though he had hardly moved. He straightened up, trying to regain some form of propriety as his eyes reflected a painful disappointment.

And suddenly she knew her true feelings.

Not only that, she knew that this was right, as nerve-wracking as it may seem. That, regardless of what came next, this was exactly where they were supposed to be and this was what they were supposed to do.

“You misunderstand me.” It was the only thing she could think of saying. And, it did stop him in his tracks. His eyes now held a questioning look within them, waiting for her to explain.

But, instead of trying to verbally reassure him that this truly was what she wanted, Elsie settled for something a bit more tangible: 

The woman stepped forward to close the space between them. She then gently reached out to take his right hand, stopping before she grasped it.

"May I?"

"You may."

He was unsure of what was next but equally willing to trust her, watching her guide his hand to rest on her back. 

"Thank you." _For the trust._

After a moment, Elsie allowed hers own right hand to slowly take his left and bring them both towards the appropriate spot.

“It would be a great pleasure to have this dance, Charles.” He exhaled sharply, disbelievingly, at this. For not only had she finally spoken his Christian name she was now resting her left hand on his shoulder. 

It was not the scandalous intimacy that came with the tango. But, it certainly was the closest they had ever stood.

And it was within this span of a minute, these precious seconds of silence, that propriety and professionalism finally faded away.

Her eyes twinkled, her smile bit more shy than before. The piece playing on her phone ended at that exact moment, quiet only for a second as a sweeping orchestra began to fill the air and take hold of their attention.

“Strauss’s ‘An der schönen blauen Donau’.” 

“Or, ‘The Blue Danube’ for us who have no desire to butcher the original German.”

They both shared a light laugh at this, starting to step in time as the string sections continued -- blending in with the incoming brass. 

“Are you sure you’re alright with what will be at least nine minutes of waltzing? We still have a little left to clean up.” 

He smiled, choosing his words with great consideration.

“I do believe, Elsie,” For, in this moment, he couldn’t address her in any other fashion. “That we can afford what is already proving to be a great pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all have a great day and a fantastic start to the New Year!


	16. Boxes and Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for the support! I hope you’re all having a great start to the new year :)
> 
> Before we get into the next chapter, I would like just to note something: If Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes seem more on edge at this time than in canon, imagine what it would feel like trying to corral 204 teenagers into singing as best as they can for a concert that will be seen by everyone you know and then some.
> 
> Which reminds me: though they may never read this, I’d like to give a shout-out to all of my choir directors and voice teachers from over the years. You’ve inspired me to learn as much as I can when it comes to singing. And your amazing ability to teach and perform has greatly helped to give me the confidence to write this. In short, thank you.

Elsie had truly been enchanted with Downton’s Winter Ball, especially those last few hours of the dance. So enchanted was she that the woman practically floated up the stairs and into her classroom upon returning to the school. After that dancing and walking through the downstairs, things simply had to be different now. And even if she couldn’t stay in an official capacity, she at least had friendship and maybe even something _more_.

However, whatever spell they’d all been under that evening apparently no longer worked once rehearsals started back up.

“Gentlemen, as we have discussed before, this requires _staccato_ \-- not whatever you’ve been attempting!”

Worse still, Elsie was beginning to believe that she was the only who’d been enchanted.

“Ladies, we are less than a week away and there’s _still_ hesitancy in the final section! You should know this by now -- there is no need for such indecision!”

It was almost as though there had been no Winter Ball in the first place.

“I must confess that I am disappointed that you, of all the choirs, are making such novice mistakes with such little time left!”

_._

“You’d think,” Ivy began to speak to her fellow Bel Canto singers over today’s lunch, irritated with how rehearsal had gone earlier. “That the fact that we already have our music memorized, that we’re certainly ‘emoting’ more than previous years, _and_ that we didn’t have to cut any songs that he’d be a little kinder to us.”

“It’s Mr. Carson,” O’Brien piped up from one table over. “What else did you expect?”

“But, Mrs. Hughes is also--”

“Mrs. Hughes will be leaving in a few weeks time. Why else would be he so on edge?” Strangely enough, Sarah only carried some malice with that. Surprisingly, the alto had garnered some respect for the woman. Therefore, her statement was less about causing drama and more about pointing out the obvious.

“Oh. She is, isn’t she?” The dejected reply came, sinking the irritation down with some form of weariness.

Sarah turned away from the now deflated group of singers, focusing back on Thomas.

“Remind me: why do we put up with them?”

_._

In some ways, the speed at which the days before the concert were flying by at could be considered both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing for the fact that it meant everyone was getting closer to not stressing about concerts on top of academics.

A curse for the reason that Mr. Carson was clearly turning back into his sterner, rigid self the closer they came to the concert.

_._

“I would like to remind you all,” Mr. Carson began to intone solemnly, whilst simultaneously wondering just where all the rehearsal time went, “That it is a _privilege_ to use this auditorium as a rehearsal space. And, therefore, as a privilege it can be easily taken away at a moment's notice.”

It was the same speech on respecting the auditorium that was given every year. But it was the fact that Mrs. Hughes was standing right alongside him that made it seem far more likely that Mr. Carson would actually follow through on what was normally a bluff.

_._

“Mrs. Hughes,” She looked up from the piano, having been going over some notes for the Men’s Ensemble. “I need you to run back upstairs and take care of a few tasks for me. In the midst of all this chaos, I managed to have forgotten to bring down some boxes that contain vital concert material.”

Well, less like he’d forgotten and more like he’d purposefully neglected for various reasons. But he couldn't give that away now could he?

“Mr. Carson,” They were now a day before the concert, a day where they needed all the rehearsal time they could get, and he wanted her to get some _boxes_? “Surely it can wait until later?”

With everything else going on, this would just add to the last minute burdens that accompanied concerts. Seeing as how there were enough of those as it is, she was hoping that--

“I’m afraid that even you would agree that what resides within these boxes are as important to our concert as our rehearsals.” He could see another thinly-veiled argument coming his way, and tried his best to dodge it. “Believe me when I say you will agree that this is necessary once you see what is inside.”

If it weren't for the fact that she respected him as a colleague and had long stopped questioning his peculiar ways -- prioritizing box retrievals over rehearsing at a time like this, for instance -- she would have remained at the piano. But, the boys on stage were done with their set, the girls would take probably ten minutes to start going through theirs, and retrieving these boxes shouldn't take that long.

Reluctantly, she stood up from the piano.

“And just how many boxes are waiting for me?”

He paused, doing some quick calculations before turning back to her.

“About 5. Maybe 7.”

“You’re not sure?” She can’t help the incredulity: Now she knows he's nearing retirement if he can’t even remember how many boxes he’s forgotten to bring down.

“I believe the elevator is working today. Therefore, regardless of how many boxes there are, all that will be necessary is to load them onto the cart in 402 and bring them downstairs.”

“Well, if I'm not back in 30 minutes, you know _exactly_ why, Mr. Carson.” She was already marching towards the door, trying to grateful that this was a task she apparently would find vital for the concert.

_20 minutes is all I ask for, Mrs. Hughes._

Only when the door soundly closed did Mr. Carson turn back to his gentlemen.

“Now, we about have fifteen minutes to work.”

_After all, I've learned never to rely on_ **_anything_ ** _being accomplished at the expected time_ **_._ **

Though, hopefully, Elsie would be a little delayed when she discovered what was waiting for her upstairs. Personally, he grew a little anxious at the thought himself, unsure of whether or not this had been the right thing to do.

But, now was the time to be the stern choir director who focused solely on his ensembles.

“I would also like to add,” He turned to the students, directing this next part to every individual in the room. “That _this_ is to remain an absolute secret. Mrs. Hughes doesn't know we are performing this piece because it’s meant to be both a surprise and a ‘thank you’ for all of her work. Therefore, she is not going to know until tomorrow evening.” He paused, meeting every single student’s gaze to confirm that he had their full attention.

“Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Mr. Carson.” 204 voices chorused, knowing that even if they hadn't a clue as to what was going on, they knew it was important enough to say nothing about.

“Good.”

As he began to start the final secret rehearsal with his gentlemen, Charles could only hope for two things:

  1. That this all went half as well as it did the last rehearsal.
  2. That she loved this final surprise.



_._

Just as Elsie was taking the stairwell closest to the auditorium, the one stairwell that would also take her directly to 402, a hint of a familiar tune snuck into her mind. She even found herself humming along for a second, before reminding herself that that song wasn’t a part of this week’s repertoire.

“Let’s focus on what’s actually going to be performed, eh?” The rhetorical question was meant only for her, of course.

But, had Elsie stuck around that hallway for much longer, she would have realized that the song in question had in fact been coming _from_ the auditorium.

In any case, it only took her a few minutes to make her way up the stairs and to 402. She hadn’t even bothered to double check and see if the elevator was working, trusting that Charles was at least right about that even if he did forgot to bring these boxes down.

When she finally made it to his desk, she saw several boxes piled together nearby. However, these boxes struck her as being familiar.

Yet, even though the woman could swear she’d seen most of these boxes before, that wasn’t the most fascinating aspect within the situation.

That photo album she had shown him some time ago was resting on top of the only box she didn’t recognize.

“What are you doing here?” The choir teacher picked the book up gently, curiously recognizing that the photo album had been deliberately placed. And there was only one other person who had the key to 402.

Which made this all the curiouser.

Upon grasping the photo album, she noticed a piece of paper neatly poking out of the album -- a handwritten note that has undoubtedly been carefully placed within the book.

Elsie slowly opened the book, her heart beating faster than normal. She recognized there was more to this little task than previously anticipated. And that recognition led to a mixture of emotion that was both unnerving and sweet.

Once her fingers found and opened the page in question, her eyes widened at what she discovered:

**_Mrs. Hughes,_ **

**_If you are reading this, I have asked you to come up here to retrieve these boxes for the concert. Before anything else, I must say thank you for being willing to put up with the requests of an old curmudgeon of a director -- it’s an arduous task and not one that is always rewarding._ **

“You’ve got that right,” She muttered to herself. But, her heart wasn’t really in the complaint.

She honestly just wanted to keep reading.

**_As I am sure that you have already realized, these are the boxes of decoration that had been occupying the closet of 403. I know you were hesitant to bring them forth once I started to put my foot down on the matter of what I had called ‘trivial decor’. For that I must apologize -- it hadn’t been one of my finer moments._ **

**_That I had made a mistake became more obvious as I began to give your suggestion the chance for further rumination. Upon doing so, I was reminded of how important it is to excel in every_** **_aspect of a concert -- not just the singing. As I’m sure you’ve known for quite a while, when the aesthetic of a concert complements the singing, the level of enchantment rises to an extraordinary level._**

**_And, speaking of enchantment, there is one final thought I wish to convey._ **

Elsie paused a moment, unsure of what was next. But, after a few seconds of biting her lip, it was clear that she had to keep reading.

**_This semester has been one of the most unconventional several weeks I have every experienced -- filled with far more changes and deviations than I could have imagined. It has also been one of the most extraordinary. And that is undoubtedly thanks to you._ **

**_In short, I would be remiss if I refrained from expressing my gratitude one last time. However, I will not penning it in this letter. Rather, I will be making one more request that I hope you find to be the opposite of arduous. One that I also hope will provide some semblance of a reward for granting the request of a curmudgeon._ **

**_If you would be so kind as to open the box that is on my desk, I would be quite honored. It contains one more surprise for the show and one that I hope you find delightful._ **

**_Thank you,_ **

**_Charles Carson_ **

Her hands refrained from trembling as she turned back to the box, but her heart was still racing. After these last few days, where he had seemed to be more on edge than anything else, she had kept her distance. Elsie, after all, understood the pressure of being in charge of a concert -- even if she had never quite had the full experience herself. Therefore, it hadn’t quite hurt to go from that dance to their current interactions.

But this sudden returning of frosty behavior -- as though he were just meeting her for the first time -- certainly confused her. It had her questioning her feelings, her thoughts of telling him about her past. Had her wonder if she should leave the school without putting up any sort of protest or fight.

All those thoughts went away at the sight of this letter. She knew that _this_ was a genuine representation of his feelings, That, they were both human and could possibly have unpleasant moments of tense miscommunication -- moments where he asked more than he really should, times where she snapped back in response. 

But, this letter illustrated his genuine feelings on the matter.

And when Elsie finally opened the box, waiting a second to see what was inside, she couldn’t help the laughter that rang forth. So touched and tickled and pleased was she that it took a solid minute to stop laughing.

“Well then,” She whispered through the giddiness, trying her best to come back to a professional demeanor and failing miserably. “You could knock me down with a feather.”

Once the laughter finally came to an end did the woman realize that she needed to compose a letter of her own.

Only then could she focus on getting all these boxes down to the auditorium.

_._

“How long do you think it'll take for Mr. Carson to go off on us today?”

The baritone looked over to his left at this question, taking note that Rose and several others were currently on their phones -- unable to turn it off even on a day like today.

“Two minutes tops.” He murmured darkly to his partner in crime, who snorted at such a kind number. His reasoning being that Mr. Carson’s secret rehearsal had already concluded successfully and now the Bel Canto choir occupied the stage.

“I was thinking more like 30 seconds myself.” Seeing as how it was concert day and their director seemed to be in even more of a perfectionist mood these days, they’d be in for quite a lecture soon enough.

“Mr. Carson,” the door to the auditorium opened to reveal Mrs. Hughes and a cart filled with boxes. He sharply turned on his heel, instantly silencing the singers on stage at the sound of her voice.

“Mrs. Hughes, do you now understand the importance of the mission I asked of you?” He seemed a bit more stuffy than normal, and _that_ was saying something.

“Indeed I do.” Came the equally unusual fond reply.

At this, the pair groaned.

“Make that never.” They simultaneously muttered, displeased by the fact that nobody had a phone out now. Not only that, Mr. Carson looked as though the heavens had opened up, now that Mrs. Hughes was here with all those boxes.

_._

“Are you ready to showcase the choir, Mrs. Hughes?” Much to their surprise, Isobel and Elsie had managed to leave the school at the same time. “Your concert is in just a day!”

Mrs. Hughes thinly smiled at the reminder, not having enough patience to be as cordial as she liked about the subject. It was the second time Isobel Crawley dampened her mood within the last week, not that the administrator was trying to.

“I think we're as ready as we can ever be.”

“How reassuring,” The prim tone of Violet Crawley snuck up behind them, causing Elsie’s smile to stiffen further and as she internally sighed. “I look forward to seeing what that means.”

“Oh, so you'll be coming to the show then?” Isobel shot off the question before Elsie had a chance, but both women were equally intrigued.

“Of course I will be. I always support Mr. Carson and his choral endeavours.”

“Just not with quite such enthusiasm, I suppose.”

“My dear, enthusiasm has no place in such a conversation. We are not baboons raucously ‘supporting’ a game of football. We are civilized people observing an art form at its finest.”

And with that, Violet Crawley maintained her reign over having the last word at Downton Academy.

Though, that didn't stop Elsie and Isobel from sharing an irritated look.

_._

“Mama, Papa,” They jolted a little at the tone coming from their eldest. The girls had been back from school for a few hours, but normally didn’t really interact with their parents until dinner.

“Yes, my darling?”

Simply put, Mary Crawley had ceased indulging in quite that sort of hesitant tone for years.

“You will be coming to the choir concert tomorrow evening, right?”

They smiled, not realizing it was quite that important to her. It was always important, just not to the point where she would check in before hand.

“Of course, darling.” Her mother couldn't help but light up at the sound of such a request.

“Thank you.” And, without further explanation, Mary swept off to go do something else.

“I wonder what's different this time? Why does she want to make sure we’re coming, when she knows we always try to?”

“That’s an excellent question, darling. One that I’m sure we’ll receive the answer to tomorrow.”

_._

For most of the school, this day would pass as just another Tuesday.

For 204 students and 2 choir instructors, it was one of the most excruciatingly important days of the year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My intention is to have the first half of the concert (for it's going to be easier to read if split into two chapters, believe me) up tomorrow. I say intention only because I will be traveling and the location is a fair distance away.
> 
> If everything goes according to plan, there'll be an update unusually early tomorrow. If not, it'll be rather late. Either way, it felt fair to give you a heads up. I hope you have a fantastic rest of your day, and a great start to the new year!


	17. Audiences and Approval

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your wonderful patience and continuing support! I never expected the story to reach this level and it has been such an amazing treat to go into the New Year.
> 
> Before anything, in order to make sure this wasn't a 10-15,000 word chapter, I want to let you know that I had to get a little selective about the songs. In short, instead of writing for every song each choir would be singing, I decided to choose specific pieces.
> 
> Now, so you can follow along like a real show, I'm going to list the songs being written out with versions you can look up. If you're curious about the full set list/performance, I'm also happy to share it in an author's note at the end of the next chapter. For now:
> 
> Everyone:
> 
> "Serenity (O Magnum Mysterium)" - look up "Ola Gjeilo: Serenity, "O Magnum Mysterium" (The Phoenix Chorale)"
> 
> Beginning Female Choir/"Treble Choir":
> 
> \- "Jingle Bells" - If you'd like to look up a version, this one has the right arrangement and incidentally was part of the inspiration for that segment of the story: "Lane Tech 2018 Winter Concert Jingle Bells 'Sort Of'"
> 
> Intermediate Female/"Bel Canto":
> 
> \- "Carol of the Bells" - look up "Gracenotes - Carol of the Bells (A Cappella)"
> 
> \- "Ma Navu" - look up "Ma Navu by the Columbus Children's Choir New World Singers"
> 
> Advanced Female Ensemble/"Women's Ensemble":
> 
> \- "Panis Angelicus" - look up "Panis Angelicus Choir Female", but note that the while the first option — the one with very young ladies in red/black dresses — is the proper arrangement, there isn't a solo in this story's rendition of the song.
> 
> \- "Nella Fantasia" - look up "Nella Fantasia — Affinity Female Choir." My only note about this is that the solo lasts a little longer in this story's version of the song
> 
> A Cappella Choir / "A Cappella Choir" (After-School)
> 
> \- "A Babe is Born" - I couldn't find the appropriate version, much to my frustration. Therefore, I've tried to make up for it with more descriptions within the story.
> 
> \- "Irish Blessing" - Look up "Irish Blessing - Barbershop Multitrack by Julie Gaulke"
> 
> \- "Dashing Away" - Look up "Dashing Away with Smoothing Iron AVI"
> 
> \- "12 Days of Christmas Confusion" - Look up "12 Days of Christmas Angel City Chorale"
> 
> Intermission
> 
> Now, without further ado, let the chapter begin!

After weeks of fidgeting, wondering best how to phrase this, and contemplating the several forms of rejection he'd most likely receive, Charles Carson resigned himself to his fate. By this point, even if Mrs. Hughes was happily married and they were to be only the best of friends, he had to know.

It was finally time to simply get on with life and ask.

"Will Mr. Hughes be joining us this evening?"

He sounded far more calm about the matter than he felt, and he's rather proud of the fact that he's managed to casually play it off. After all, he didn't sound as though he'd be wrestling with this question for a very long time. Nor did it sound like he

"Mr. Hughes?" He saw her look down at her ring at the name, clearly starting to get lost in thought.

Charles resisted the urge to grip the nearby table in anticipation of her answer. He was unwillingly prepared to accept that Mr. Hughes is probably 15 minutes away, that Mr. Hughes has been parked and waiting for an hour, that Mr. Hughes is already-

_Enough of that, Charles. Let's just get this over and start the show._

But even the mental reprimand did little to quiet his mind. Simply put, he craved for _something_ to do while she unwittingly keeps him in suspense.

_._

Elsie let her gaze rest on her ring, recalling memories that hadn't really touched her in years.

"Mr. Hughes has been gone for quite a few years now."

She can see the ring as its being slid onto her finger for the very first time. Recalls all those years when it had been her most prized possession. Can feel her hand tremble a bit when she remembered she'd be losing Joe far sooner than she could have ever predicted. Was reminded that that was the same time her career as a soloist began to plummet - when her heart was starting to lose its reason for maintaining what had once been her strongest passion.

Soon her main performance dress was being pushed into the back of the closet, before it had to turn into a funeral dress. It became a reminder of minutes spent dreading singing the same songs over and over again. It took on the memory of an awful day where the sun wouldn't stop shining but a storm of loss had already entrenched her numbed heart - the day she had to bury her husband.

"I am so sorry to hear that."

The sound of Charles's voice lifts her head, reminding her that those dark days were not the current times. She meets his deeply apologetic gaze once more, starting to return to the present moment.

"Thank you for that." She means her gratitude - truly. His condolences are not the only sentiments appreciated, his attempt at empathizing with her old pain is as well. And she needs him to understand that, especially since she's noticed signs of guilt beginning to grab a hold of the man.

_._

"Charles," He paused in thoughts, shaken out of his gloominess at that sound. He had not ever wanted to remind of her what was clearly a painful part of her past. Having now done so, he can't help but feel rather idiotic for putting the question to her in the first place.

But, it looked like she has more to say.

"Please understand that I will miss Joe and that part of my life will always have a place in my heart - there's no mistaking that. But, one thing that we both agreed on was that, while it is important to mourn and grieve, it is just as important to live."

He turned to her at this, unsure of just what she was implying. But, as he continued to observe her, he could see the traces of grief and pain already abating. The look of loss that had overtaken her eyes was fading into a more determined look.

Elsie stepped forward, letting her hands fall to her sides as she met his eyes once more.

"So, please, don't mistaken the fact that I will always miss him as a sign that I could never move on. Or, that I couldn't let life continue to change me." She reached out a hand, silently asking permission to take his.

"Life's altered you as it's altered me." He quietly remarked as he gladly let their hands join, stating a fact of existence.

"It's true," A smile peeked through her serious expression as she continued to speak. "And where would we be if we didn't let life change us?"

_._

When the teachers return to their charges, a clear change sets in the air.

No longer holding one another's hands, both choir teachers hold themselves with a professional air that speaks of the importance of today's proceedings.

They have seamlessly transitioned into "concert-mode", the mode that typically puts all students on edge.

Now is the time for perfection. Now is the time to meticulously inspect the lights and sound system a dozen more times. Now is the time to ready themselves before they must commence a choral battle.

In short, now is the time to begin the final rehearsal of the semester.

_._

He knows what the crowds expecting:

A gorgeously traditional choir concert - complete with divine music that transcends the very essence of sound. A two hour long performance of some of the world's greatest vocal creations, blending enriching classical pieces with breathtaking sounds of perfection.

Mr. Carson also knows that there would be some gorgeous choir music to be heard, of course. However, they are also going to enjoy themselves. He recognizes that the old traditions of Downton were to be complemented with a fresh breath of fun.

Charles had not a single shred of doubt that the audience is going to adore these changes. That, even those who will be initially hold disdain for any "merriment" will come around to the idea of living a little.

After all, he did.

_._

Thomas watched the two choir teachers curiously, almost suspiciously, as they walked about the choirs and finished their last inspections of the auditorium. It was something that Sarah had remarked on once, the easy going nature of their relationship that made it seem like they were secretly seeing each other.

He hadn't believed it for a second, of course. And certainly not at the beginning of it all. From personal experience, the baritone saw how easy it is for the world to assume two people were dating just because they hung out a lot - especially when it'd be a straight couple in question.

But, then he started to closely watch them from time to time. Saw the changes within them both that were obvious only to those watching. Noticed how their attitudes towards one another grew from cordial professionalism to fond friendship to….

Well, now, the baritone wasn't really sure what the two teachers felt.

"Thomas? What's got you looking like this is your first day of rehearsals?"

He scowled at Sarah, brushing any curiosity about his teachers away.

"Nothing."

_._

"Are you ready, _Mrs._ Hughes?" There's a difference emphasis than normal, one that causes her to shake her head slightly and let out a soft laugh. No choir teacher, and certainly no choir director for that matter, could afford to be too cheerful with rowdy, nervous teenagers trailing behind them. But, still, they could get away with this little joke. They could lightly tease one another and reassure the other that this was going to be a success - no matter how the show actually went.

"As ready as I'll ever be, Mr. Carson." She grinned at his outfit - rather pleased he'd decided to bring back the old tradition as per her request. "Are _you_ ready?"

Charles smiled at this, before schooling his features into the stern authority figure the school knew him to be.

"Of course I am." The tone that spoke of meticulous decorum faithfully carries his statement through the excitement in the air. His bushy eyebrows, drawing themselves into firm lines of a scrupulous mind, accompany the suddenly ramrod posture.

But Elsie could still see a hint of smile in his demeanor. She still caught the memories of getting rained on in the garden, the banter between rehearsals, and dancing at that wonderful ball crinkle his eyes. And she realized that, no matter how any of this went, she was very happy to have made the memories in the first place.

_And that's all that really matters,_ came the decisive thought - the one that brought her to the curtains leading to the stage. The same curtains that Charles is holding for her, in order for her to pass without getting tangled up in the velvet material.

_._

One would think that after handling 204 teenagers for about four months would have prepared her for performing in front of a crowd of about 500 strangers, coworkers, bosses, and friends.

It apparently did not.

Honestly, this wasn't her largest crowd she'd ever been in front of, and she still felt like she was still new to this.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," Elsie spoke into the handheld microphone with an ease she didn't feel. "I would like to officially welcome you to the 112th choir concert of this fine institution."

Her only consolation was that she would not be the only one stepping out of her comfort zone this evening.

_._

"Where's Mr. Carson?" Beryl was pleased to see Elsie take the spotlight, but she's always been to these shows. Mr. Carson was _always_ on stage, if not introducing the whole kit and caboodle himself.

"Seems like there's been more changes with the choirs than we realized." Mrs. Bird slyly remarked, garnering a soft huff of amusement from her friend.

_._

How she convinced him to do this, he would never know.

No, that wasn't quite true. But it wouldn't do to dwell on those sorts of thoughts when a concert was on.

Charles watched the proceedings from the backstage area, observing the students as they quietly took their positions in the auditorium. He couldn't conduct the opening song, not right now.

Nor did he need to seeing as how it was mostly an _a cappella_ arrangement.

Still, like any good choir director, Mr. Carson had to watch and pray to make sure it all went as best as it could.

_._

"And, so, it is with a great pleasure that I ask you to please silence all devices. For the show," She warmly smiled at the audience, pleased that all her students were now in their positions, "Is about to begin."

Elsie gave the audience a moment to settle down once more before walking over to the piano and calmly playing the first chord of the opening piece. By this point, the house lights had dimmed, the cellist had quickly tuned their instrument, and it was time to perform.

And, so it began.

_._

" _O,"_

The note was whispered at a soft _piano_ , arcing through the space to create the feeling of surround sound.

" _O,"_

Students were lined along the walls, singing from the balcony, hidden in the shadows but still making their voices strong.

" _Magnum."_

The audience was enraptured to say the least.

_._

It was in the quiet moment, the time in which the singer were beginning to let the light of their voices shine through, that Charles allowed himself something he normally never indulged in.

" _Mysterium_ ,"

He simply listened.

He allowed his mind to look past the mistakes a well-trained ear noticed and hear only the beautiful intention.

_._

A captivating air flooded the room, further reinforced when the cellist began to blend their instrument with the surrounding voices.

And it would only get better from here.

_._

"I remember that being performed at the Winter Ball, but I hadn't realized just how _gorgeous_ that is!" The quiet, shocked whisper came from a few seats over, and Beryl rolled her eyes. The compliment was appreciated, true.

But there is something to be said for maintaining _silence_ during a performance, nevertheless.

_._

They proudly continued to captivate the audience, the sopranos beginning to take the final " _Alleluia"_ with a tranquility befitting of such a song.

_._

The applause that followed "Serenity" was tremendous. Some in the audience chose to stand already with this ovation, while others chose to enthusiastically applaud from their seats.

Either way, the support was overwhelmingly obvious and delightful to hear.

As the Beginning Girls' Choir, noted as the Treble Choir in the program, Elsie felt a wave of relief wash over her. When Mr. Carson had suggested having every ensemble learn the song - on top of everything else they'd been working on - she had been concerned about the quality of the performance.

Now, she held no such concern. In fact, it was with an easy step that the woman took her place in front of the choir - ready to conduct them. Once she stood still, the audience quieted down, prompting her to nod to the girls in the choir.

At her cue, the singers on stage revealed little bells that eagerly jingled as they waited for their conductor to appear.

_._

Beryl watched her friend cue the choir to start playing their sleigh bells, having not a clue as to what was now happening. Clearly it was a reference to their next piece: "Jingle Bells". That much was obvious.

But, why her friend wasn't starting them off - and why Mr. Carson hadn't appeared on stage yet - was what was escaping her. For that matter, why every girl on stage was trying her best not to giggle or grin was equally confusing.

The band director watched her friend turn around, feigning confusion as she stepped up to the microphone and dramatically began to converse with the audience.

"Has anyone seen Mr. Carson? I was looking forward him right before the show, but he was nowhere to be found" She asked the crowd, her incredulous voice echoing through the auditorium. "It's just that we can't perform without an accompanist - it's simply not possible to do without."

The crowd murmured amongst themselves, knowing that this had to be a ruse and still wondering just where Mr. Carson was.

"If only we had a hero in this great hour of need," Elsie had Beryl chuckling with this theatrical talk of hers, but that wasn't the best part.

For as her dear friend was "asking" the audience for help, a tall figure clad in a Father Christmas suit - complete with what had to be a velvet-clothed bag of presents - was wandering onto the stage.

At this, all the children in the crowd - for there were indeed quite a few that came to the show - were whispering excitedly while the jaws of many adults dropped.

"Mrs. Hughes?"

Beryl could hardly recognize Mr. Carson when he was dressed up so, so… cheerfully! And with a hearty voice that boomed merrily without the help of microphone, she had the urge to pinch herself to make sure that this was reality.

"Oh, Father Christmas!" Elsie had turned to him, beaming with joy at the sight of him. "Do you know how to play the piano?"

"Well, now that you mention it, Mrs. Hughes," Charles made a show of thinking about this as she guided him towards the piano. "I think I'm a decent sight-reader when the North Pole doesn't keep me busy!"

Now several girls on stage were giggling to themselves, unable to help it.

Fortunately, they weren't the only ones.

"Please tell me someone's recording this." Jane muttered to Beryl.

_._

" _Jingle bells, jingle bells,_

_Jingle all the way!"_

They were probably having too much fun, Santa happily playing away at the piano while she conducted the ladies.

" _Oh what fun it is to ride_

_In a one horse open,"_

" _Sleigh,"_ They broke off into a simple harmony, gliding their voices through the notes as though they were ice skating.

" _Sleigh,"_ The harmony broke off into further parts, building even more.

" _Jingle, jingle, jingle, jingle!"_

The sprightly accompaniment carried them through the last lyric.

" _Jingle all the way!"_

The sleigh bells sprang to life once more, happily continuing after the singers held out their last note. And, once the audience began to give their enthusiastic approval, Father Christmas began to take his leave.

"Oh, Father Christmas!" This didn't look like this was a part of the program, seeing as how Elsie wasn't properly facing the mic. "Would you care to stay for two more songs?"

He had stopped in his tracks at this, surprised by her somewhat devious question.

He probably only had planned on dressing up for the one song, Beryl could only suppose.

"Please, Father Christmas!" Some of the children were now crying from the crowd.

"I suppose I don't have to return to the North Pole just yet." The man conceded in a not-quite jolly voice, bringing forth another round of roaring approval. "But, I'll certainly have to return after these next two songs!"

"Thank you, Father Christmas!"

In that case, Beryl didn't need someone else to be recording. She was perfectly content to discreetly take out her phone take a few photos and videos herself.

Especially when "Father Christmas" accidentally ended up stumbling into Elsie as he eventually took his leave. _That_ had been particularly hilarious, watching them blush as deeply as his costume as profuse apologies were hastily delivered over what had clearly not been planned.

_._

They had snuck in per a mutual desire to do something a little rebellious for once. After all, he wouldn't be performing for a little bit, and she could easily make her way back downstairs when it was time for her choir to perform.

"I can't believe she got him to stay in that costume!" Joseph exclaimed in between one of the songs. Phyllis looked at him, smiling a bit herself.

"I certainly can."

_._

"Oh good, I'm glad Mr. Carson was able to make it to the concert after all." Albert Mason whispered to Beryl from the other seat beside her. She looked up, having been studying the program once again, to note that Mr. Carson was indeed coming to the stage. He, of course, did not resemble Father Christmas any longer, now dressed his customary tuxedo. "Though, I do miss Father Christmas playing the piano."

And, as the Bel Canto Choir began to stride onto the stage, the band director watched as her friend looked like she was whispering something to the man.

"You and me both, Mr. Mason." She said, continuing to watch the two with interest.

_._

"Mr. Carson," Elsie called his attention, making sure they could not be overheard. "I do hope the crowd won't be too concerned for you when they realize _I_ will be the one conducting the entire first half." After all, she had been in charge of playing accompaniment for the Men's Ensemble, the Beginner Male Choir and the Advanced Mixed Choir - not the Beginner Girls, Bel Canto, or _A Cappella_.

"Mrs. Hughes," He couldn't help but send her a teasing look, able to do so now that he wasn't facing the audience. "Somehow I suspect they will be far too eager for something different." She nodded, sending him to the piano once more.

"I only hope this isn't too different." She muttered to herself.

_._

As Bel Canto was settled themselves on stage, Elsie nodded Charles to play the first chord. After she had the girls humming their notes, she had them maintain silence for another few seconds before they began.

" _Hark how the bells,"_ The first sopranos, being the only ones to sing at the moment, seemed unusually nervous - reflecting those nerves in the breathy tone they were taking. She could only hope they'd regain their beautiful confidence when the rest of the choir jumped in.

" _Sweet silver bells,"_

" _All seem to say,_

' _Throw cares away'!"_

It was by now that the second sopranos and the first altos were now " _Ding!"_ -ing and " _Dong!"_ -ing in the background, supporting the melody with a crisp "ng" sound. The key to ringing like a bell, as Elsie had discussed with the choir many times, was managing to produce the "ng" sound - one that tickled their noses and clearly vibrated through the air.

Doing so, instead of getting caught up in pronouncing purely the "g", allowed the girls to maintain breath support and hold out what translated as a gorgeously clear sound.

_._

"Not bad," O'Brien muttered to Barrow, coldly observing Bel Canto from the mostly empty balcony.

" _Oh how they pound,_

_Raising the sound,_

_O'er hill and dale,_

_Telling the tale."_

"Better than last year, at least."

_._

This was the hardest part, the highest note for the first sopranos the piece. There was nothing truly to fear, but Elsie always had problems coaxing the girls to really open their mouths and just singing. By doing as she instructed, as foolish as it may feel, they'd be giving the sound more space to truly bring forth stunning notes.

" _Gaily they ring"_

Elsie was floored by the beautiful sound now emanating from the first soprano section. They had soared through the note, rather encouraged by the crowd.

" _While people sing_

_Songs of good cheer,_

_Christmas is here!"_

_._

Charles watched the ladies with pride, as they began to wrap up their first song of the night.

" _Hark how the bells,_

_Sweet silver bells,_

_All seem to say_

_'Throw cares away'."_

The sopranos let the melody trail off, as the choir reunited as a whole to finish off the piece.

" _Ding!" "Ding dong," "Ding!"_

And as they proceeded to sing a bell-chord, the type where the notes are built up one-after-one instead of at once, he couldn't help but smile. It did feel like quite an appropriate type of chord to finish off the song.

" _Dong,"_ The second altos began, followed quickly by the first altos with their own " _Dong"_ before joined by the second sopranos, with the first sopranos being the last to join the chord. They allowed the "ng" to be placed even further in motion. This gave the girls a delightfully nasally sound to produce - with such clarity that Charles was reminded of some bells he's encountered.

The notes shot gracefully through the auditorium as they finished the song.

_._

Over the warming applause, she made sure to meet the eyes of every singer on stage - proud that their hard work this semester.

She knew their full set was going to be just as successful.

_._

As the Beginner Female Choir gave the stage to the Women's Ensemble, Elsie stood and whispered words of encouragement to everyone she could.

And as she saw the familiar faces of O'Brien, Anna, Mary, Edith, and the others, she couldn't help but reminded of that first rehearsal - the one that started so much for the choirs.

After all, it would be "Panis Angelicus" that they would be singing first.

_._

" _Panis Angelicus,"_

It was very sweet, very soothing.

" _Fit panis hominum."_

So much so that Robert was falling victim to its serene tones and beginning to drift off to sleep - like many well-meaning parents did at these sorts of events.

" _Dat panis coelicus_

_Figuris terminum!"_

Fortunately, a sharp elbow to the ribs and a high note coming from the first sopranos was sure to wake him up.

_._

"Panis Angelicus" soon came to a beautiful end. And with a dazzling grin Sybil walked up to the microphone - unable to contain her excitement for the next song.

Somewhere in the crowd, her parents were watching her proudly.

And somewhere in the balcony, the spot where all choir kids snuck in to watch the show, she knew there was an Irish gentleman cheering her on.

_._

Tom watched as his friend took to the stage, having been so eager to see her finally perform. It was a small solo that she'd be singing today.

But, the sentiment behind the piece and the love she had for it was as clear as daylight.

The piano began to start in a rousing key, as Sybil's eyes glowed with a fiery determination. Her posture rose as she confidently smiled - breathing in the sentiment of the song right as she was to start performing.

" _Nella Fantasia,"_ She sang in a matter-of-fact tone - one that informed the crowd that this was indeed her personal dream.

_In my fantasy,_ Tom thought to himself - recalling the translation with ease.

" _Io vedo un mondo giusto,"_ She spun through the notes, _crescendoing_ and _de-crescendoing_ through the phrase with great consideration. Each vowel was lovingly, meaningfully voiced with the pitch and note thoughtfully noted.

_I see a fair world._

" _Lì tutti vivono  
In pace onestà."_

_Where everyone lives in peace and honesty_. He couldn't help but continue translating, as this was his favorite song - apart from "Irish Blessing", of course.

" _Io sogno d'anime,_

_Che sono sempre,_

_Libere."_

_I dream of souls that are always free._ And, soon enough, her voice would flying up towards the heavens in a similar fashion - once it soared and swept through these enchantingly liberating notes.

" _Come le nuvole,"_

_Like the clouds._ He paused, closing his eyes and waiting in great anticipation.

" _Che volano"_

_That fly, much like her voice._

" _Pien d'umanità"_

"Full of humanity." He murmured, as though this were a prayer.

Sybil's radiance of authenticity, sincerity, and genuine kindness shined a captivating light on the vocal heights she had just reached.

" _In fondo all'anima."_

_Deep within the soul._

She gracefully stepped back towards, and he joined the smattering of applause for her - barely resisting the urge to cheer in her honor.

_._

" _Libere,_

_Libere,"_ The voices rippled through the piece, stirring Cora to tears.

And she most definitely wasn't the only one.

_._

" _Nella fantasia,_

_Esiste un vento caldo._

_Che soffia sulle città,_

_come amico_."

Reading right alongside the translation in the program, Beryl and Jane could hardly claim to have dry eyes currently.

_In my fantasy,_

_There is a warm wind_

_That blows over the cities_

_Like a friend._

Not even Mr. Mason could describe his eyes as anything less than "misty".

_._

Elsie guided them through the brilliant chords with great pride.

" _Io sogno d'anime_

_Che sono sempre_

_Libere."_

It was so wonderful to finally share this extraordinarily empowering song.

" _Come le nuvole,_

_Che volano."_

Upon hearing such a piece, without fail, she couldn't help but feel incredibly optimistic about life.

" _Pien d'umanità."_

Her hands requested a softer tone, one that was still resolutely full of hope. But also one that was just a bit quieter.

" _In fondo all'anima."_

_._

It was with a wonderful fondness that Elsie gestured to the Women's Ensemble - directing the applause towards them.

And it was with a feeling excitement that she watched the _a cappella_ choir began to step onto stage. At the arrival of the choir, it seemed the overall air was filled with questions in regards to what would be happening next.

"Wish me luck," She quietly mouthed to Mr. Carson, her back to the crowd.

He merely smiled in response, knowing that she hardly needed such a thing.

Though, when she pulled out her pitch pipe to give the first pitch, Elsie could swear she heard muttering of confusion within the audience.

They'd be learning soon enough.

_._

"What is that?" A stranger a few seats away from Beryl held disdain for the pitch pipe Elsie was now playing.

"A pitch pipe," Beryl blunted responded. "Now, please refrain from talking so the rest of us can enjoy the performance!"

Albert and Jane both silently applauded her, the former carrying the look of admiration whilst the latter held thinly veiled amusement at the interaction.

_._

" _A babe is born_

_All of a May."_

The women began, slowly beginning to climb to the higher notes of the song.

" _To bring salvation unto us."_

Elsie had figured that it was best to ease the crowd into _a cappella_ music. And that the easiest to do so was to bring in a lovely version of a classic choral piece.

" _To him we sing both night and day._

_Veni Creator Spiritus."_

_._

Isobel watched them curiously, having been waiting to hear this particular choir to perform for quite some time.

" _At Bethlehem,"_

The ladies began, the gentlemen soon dutifully echoing within their own range.

" _That blessed place."_

The echo of lyric continued, drawing the attention of the crowd even more.

" _The child of bliss now born he was._

_And him to serve God_

_Give us grace._

_O Lux Beatas Trinitas."_

It was easy to listen to, so far lacking any harmonies that made it particularly difficult to follow along.

Little did Isobel know, the fun was only about forty seconds away.

_._

Elsie signalled to the altos to start the next set of lyrics off in a rich tone, their lovely voices sinking to notes the sopranos didn't dare to sing. Though, that didn't stop the sopranos from carrying the beautiful melody from the first verse right alongside them.

" _There came three kings," "There came three kings out of the East."_

" _To worship the," "To worship the King that is so free."_

" _The King is so free,"_

Their voices layered splendidly, wonderfully harmonizing and moving past the simple echoes of the past.

" _With gold and myrrh and frankincense._

_A solis ortus cardine."_

And this was now where they truly got to enjoy themselves - deviating from Matthias's original work and having a good time while they were at.

" _The shepherds heard the angel's cry,"_ The sopranos took charge, proving to their teacher that they did understand her lesson all those weeks ago.

" _A merry song that night sung he."_

It was that confident whisper that she had been asking for, the whisper that happily skipped through the notes with an ease that they certainly didn't have six weeks ago. They repeated the phrase by themselves once more, before leading the charge for the other sections to join

" _The shepherds heard the angel's cry,"_ Gave way to the slower, stronger chorus coming from the lower parts of the choir. " _The shepherds heard the angel's cry,"_

_"A merry song that night sung he!" "A merry song that night sung he!"_

" _Oh why are ye so sore aghast?_

_A solis ortus cardine."_

The choirs paused, and she grinned as she slammed her hands back up - pushing them into a shocking _forte_ with great pleasure.

_._

" _The angels came down with one cry!"_

Several in the audience had jumped at the overpowering sound, Isobel certainly included. The choir was now one entity, an ocean of sound - their strong voices majestically filling the grand room.

" _A fair song that night sung they!_

_In the worship of that child,"_

They grew once more in volume, creating goosebumps for many in the crowd in the process without even ending the piece.

" _Gloria tibi Domine!"_

She now had a taste of the strength of the _a cappella_ choir, a choir clearly made stronger by the woman at the helm. Mr. Carson certainly could create a commanding choir of his own, but this had a different energy to it altogether.

And, now that she had finally heard them in their glory, Isobel did not want this choir's performance to end.

_._

Thomas sat there, quite frankly shocked by the level of quality - as was apparent by his gaping jaw.

"That was decent, I suppose." O'Brien remarked, not noticing her companion's awestruck silence.

He shot off a glare at her once her comment registered, but it wasn't real frustration with her. More like he was irritated that he wasn't on stage currently and had decided to take it out on his schoolmate.

"That's one way to put it." He wanted to respond scathingly.

Instead, he settled for silence.

_._

Elsie looked over at Tom, enjoying his sudden delight as he could finally acknowledge what was next.

She played the appropriate pitch, hiding a smile as he and Sybil both positively radiated with excitement - in their own ways, of course.

_._

" _May the,"_ The second sopranos started, the rest of the choir dazzling the crowd as they sang " _Road rise to meet you."_

" _May the wind_

_Be always at your back."_

He had always wanted to sing a song to honor his roots, ever since he came in a year and a half ago. Mr. Carson always said something along the lines of "We'll see if it's possible." - which wasn't outright denial, though it certainly wasn't explicit approval. And Mrs. Butte would just stare at him with not-so-subtle contempt, dismissing the idea altogether each time it was suggested.

" _May the sun shine_

_Warm upon your face."_

When Mrs. Hughes had searched with him to find an appropriate piece, he knew that _that's_ how a choir was supposed to be run.

" _May the rain fall_

_Soft, upon your fields."_

Or, at least, that's how a choir should be run.

" _And until we meet again,_

_May he hold you in his hand."_

And for that willingness, for that respect she showed him, she had his full appreciation and respect.

" _May God hold you in the palm of his,"_

" _Hand"_ The bass singers of the bunch firmly held out the note, as the remainder softly sang through " _Hold you in the palm of his hand."_

It was short, sweet, and indescribable incredible to finally be respect.

To finally have a request become reality.

_._

"Well, that wasn't particularly fitting for a holiday concert." Isobel refused to roll her eyes at Violet's remark. Instead, she straightened herself up and directed her gaze from the choir to her colleague.

"I thought it was simply divine!" She remarked, helping the applause reach a roaring level. She continued to do so, especially once she heard a huff of disapproval from the other woman.

"Of that I'm sure." The woman caustically remarked.

_._

Elsie smiled at Charles, noticing he was respectfully remaining at the piano even though he wasn't required to. He returned her smile with a faint nod of approval, knowing without even needing a program which song was next.

She playfully raised an eyebrow, returning her focus to her charges. They themselves were hardly able to contain the excitement, all remembering that this was the song that officially started it all for them.

Though, the ladies of the bunch would beg to differ.

_._

" _Dashing away with the smoothing iron,"_

The audience had been captivated by the first lyric, enamored with the song's sweet verses. And, now as they were holding out the last notes of the piece, she could feel the air grow with further excitement.

" _She stole my heart away!"_

Applause came from all sides - including the piano. And when she looked over to smile at him, a blush emerged instead. For Mr. Carson was standing up for them as he applauded, his hands soon being held out in a gesture that commanded the audience to give another enthusiastic round of kudos and applause to the singers.

"Who's ready to have some fun?" Elsie whispered over the clapping, gaining many excited nods in response.

_._

"'The Twelve Days of Christmas _Confusion'_?"

"Whatever it is, here's hoping it'll be quick and painless."

_._

It began as many facetious and satirical pieces of art do:

The song started in an entirely serious manner before slowly making its true intention known.

_._

" _On the first day of Christmas,_

_My true love gave to me_

_A partridge in a pear tree."_

They sang loudly and proudly, as though they weren't aware that this was going to be one of the longer songs in the set.

" _On the second day of Christmas,_

_My true love gave to me"_

Harmony poked out from within the group - promising that even though this was probably going to get repetitive, at least it would sound pretty.

" _Two turtle doves_

_And a partridge in a pear tree."_

" _On the fourth day of Christmas-"_ The men proceeded, causing the audience to stir.

" _On the third day of Christmas,"_ The women cut off the men, looking as though they were now ashamed to be on the stage.

_My true love gave to me,"_

Fortunately, they were both ready to rectify the situation,

" _Five golden rings!"_

Elsie was rather thankful she had her back to the audience - else she might not be able to keep a straight face.

" _Four calling birds,_

_Three French hens,_

_Two turtle doves,_

_And a partridge in a pear tree."_

The choir took a moment, carrying on once more as though nothing were wrong.

" _On the ninth day of Christmas-_

_On the eighth day of Christmas,_

_My true love gave me,"_

_._

She really was enjoying herself a little too much - having almost missed giving them a few cues.

But when Elsie thought of how scandalized the audience must feel at such a song parody, she could barely keep the smirk off her face.

This was most certainly an excellent way to go out with a bang.

_._

" _Seven swans a-swimming,_

_Six geese a-laying,"_

" _You better not shout!"_ The men warned

_You better not cry,"_ The woman spoke up, rolling their eyes.

" _You better not-_

_In a pear tree."_

This got some snickers from the crowd, quiet as they were.

" _On the tenth-"_

"No!" Anna shouted from her section, seemingly upset with the current lyric.

" _On the tenth-"_

"No!" Andy matched the complaint, looking even more upset.

" _On the -"_

" _Deck the halls with boughs of holly-_

" _Seven swans a-swimming,"_ They picked up the pace, relishing the fact that they got to teasingly sing some of what many people considered to be the most overplayed holiday songs - and with a live audience, to boot.

_._

Running through snippets of "Do You Hear What I Hear?" and "Carol of the Bells" to the verses of the 12 days was hilarious. But the icing for many singers on the stage was in fact getting to jump to,

" _Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer,_

_Had a very shiny nose!"_

They held out the note for "nose", as Tom took the mic.

" _I'm dreaming of a_

_Six geese a-laying."_

They were finally drawing proper laughs from the crowd.

" _Jack Frost nipping at my_

_Nose."_

_._

" _On the Twelfth day of Christmas-"_

" _I had a little Dreidel,"_

Elsie had been a little surprised when Atticus had auditioned for this solo. She was also relieved upon hearing that he felt the part was adorably corny and not offensive. Potentially offending him and the other Jewish students in the choirs/crowd had been an unofficial concern she'd had when introducing it in general - though, much to her surprise, he reassured her that there was no reason to take offense.

" _I made it out of clay!"_

And when he had explained that it'd be an honor to teasingly "introduce" the audience to a Jewish song that surprisingly not everyone knew, she almost let him just have the part.

" _And when it's dry and ready,"_

By this point, his fellow singers appeared to look fairly confused and rather concerned for him, as though he didn't have a clue as to the main holiday they were currently celebrating.

" _Dreidel I shall play!_

_Oh, dreidel,"_

He gestured encouragingly to the audience, fading off as no one was singing along.

" _Dreidel?"_

His voice, one that been clear and lovely to listen to, now held a whisper of hesitation when it came to the consistency of the note.

"It's Christmas!" Rose stage whispered to him. He did an unusually sheepish shrug, gathering more giggles from the crowd.

But the fun wasn't over yet.

_._

" _On the twelfth day of Christmas,_

_My true love gave to me,"_

They all suddenly leaned in, the audience following suite.

" _Doo-doo-doo-doo!"_ It was a familiar tune, and one that certainly wasn't associated with Christmas.

This was the part that Charles was looking most forward too, though he would never, _ever_ admit it.

" _On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,"_

William had shyly stepped up to the microphone.

" _Twelve drummers drumming_

_Like Olympus upon the Serengeti."_

The crowd thought they recognized the sound, but some couldn't dare to believe that a holiday rendition of "Africa" was being performed.

" _Ba-da-da ba-da-da!"_

" _Eleven pipers_

_Piping!"_

The boy was beginning to warm up, really getting into the song just like his choir teacher had hoped he would.

" _Ten lords a-leaping!"_

He handed the mic off to Daisy, who took it happily.

" _Nine ladies dancing,_

_They were dancing for me!"_

Sybil and Edith chimed in with pleasure.

" _Eight maids a-milking,_

_They were milking just for me!"_

Mary joined in, as well as Anna and Rose.

" _I had Christmas down in Africa!"_

It wasn't Journey, that was for sure.

" _I had Christmas down in Africa!"_

But, it was absolutely hilarious.

" _I had Christmas down in Africa!"_

The singers even began to dance a little, moving on the risers as Jimmy stepped up to the mic as though he were born to perform.

" _Five golden rings!,"_ His falsetto blanketed the room, bringing forth laughter of all sorts.

" _Five golden rings!"_

_._

Beryl couldn't help but roar with laughter, full-heartedly chortling at the merriment now occurring on the risers.

" _Five golden rings!"_ When Jimmy's voice climbed up to an impossibly high note, she was crying with mirth.

" _Things we never had,"_

And as they began to finish, practically everyone was grinning - on and off-stage.

" _Partridge in a big pear tree,"_

It started at a soft _piano_ before evolving into a beautiful crescendo one last time.

" _Partridge in a big pear tree!"_

When the song came to an end, Mrs. Patmore was absolutely one of the first to her feet - eagerly giving the group a standing ovation.

And, she certainly wasn't the only one.

_._

Charles stood up once more, secretly ecstatic that the audience was rising merrily to their feet far faster than ever before. He couldn't quite believe how much they all clearly adored the quirky rendition of the classic piece, as everyone in the crowd was still standing even as the _a cappella_ choir started to make their way off the stage.

Never before had the auditorium seemed so lively. And, though he wasn't one for cacophony, this seemed more like a overwhelmingly radiant approval.

Thinking back on the piece, Mr. Carson absolutely understood why his colleague hadn't thought he'd ever approve.

In any case, Charles was happy to say that - in this matter - Elsie Hughes was simply wrong.

For he not only thought the song was in fact cleverly hilarious, he was also willing to admit as such.

__.__

The applause had taken her aback - Elsie had hardly expected such a distinguish crowd to be quite so enthusiastic, even when they clearly enjoyed the earlier songs.

But, it relieved her to hear such energy. For, with such a prestigious crowd giving them a standing ovation, her little choir stood a chance of surviving long after she left.

And, so, it was with a relieved heart that the choir teacher started to move from the center of the stage to take her place at the piano.

But, first, there was to be an intermission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your wonderful patience and extraordinary support! I promise I should have the second half of the concert up before the weekend’s over -- and then there should only be one more chapter!


	18. Thrills of Hope and Auld Finales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for the lovely support! Here is the set list for the final half of the concert - enjoy!
> 
> Bass Choir:
> 
> Hark the Herald [I unfortunately couldn’t find the arrangement I had been basing this on.]
> 
> I Heard the Bells ["2013 Singing Buckeyes Holiday show. Mainstay sings I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day"]
> 
> Men’s Ensemble:
> 
> Hanerot Halulu [Hanerot Halalu - Forte Toronto Gay Men's Chorus]
> 
> Mary Had a Baby [Once again, much to my frustration I was unable to find the correct version]
> 
> *Loch Lomond [Loch Lomond (HQ) - All State Men's choir 08-09]
> 
> Advanced Mixed Choir:
> 
> O Come All Ye Faithful ["O Come, All Ye Faithful" arr. Dan Forrest, Sanctuary Choir — the ones in the red choir robes]
> 
> Bashana Haba’ah [Bashana Haba'ah Singing Out Glenn Gould Studio]
> 
> Breath of Heaven [Breath of Heaven *Arranged by Courtney Craig]
> 
> Sleep, Little Baby, Sleep [Sleep, Little Baby, Sleep, USC choral]
> 
> Finale:
> 
> O Holy Night [O Holy Night/Lane Tech Chorus]
> 
> And I’m keeping the last piece a surprise for now — I think it’ll help to make it even sweeter :)

Intermission came and went before they could even catch a breath. And, with it went the last respite before the true emotional roller coaster of the night began.

_._

_"_ _Hark! the Herald angel sings,_

_Glory to the newborn King!"_

Seeing as how it was Mr. Carson now conducting the choirs, Isobel was not at all surprised that the overall tone of the ensembles had taken a more serious note.

_"_ _Peace on Earth, and mercy mild._

_God and sinners reconciled!"_

Though, perhaps, Mrs. Hughes could have convinced him to have a little more fun with the selection - seeing as how she got him to dress up as Father Christmas for the Treble Choir earlier.

Speaking of, she'd have to ask Elsie about how she managed to get the voice director to do such a thing - it was quite the feat. And certainly something she could have even imagined the choir director involving himself with.

_._

_"_ _Hark! The Herald angel sings,"_

Beryl was glad she put her foot down in regards to borrowing some of her trumpeters for "Hark! The Herald"

_"_ _Glory to the newborn King!"_

It was a lovely song that she did enjoy.

But it was also unnecessary to have her entire brass section perform for only one song.

_._

The harking of the Herald soon gave way to a song of similar triumphant note.

_"I heard the bells on Christmas Day,_

_Their old familiar carols play."_

The Bass Choir whispered to the crowd in a wistful manner, their voices filled with soft wonderment that managed to refrain from too much breathiness.

_"And wild and sweet_

_The words repeat,_

_Of peace on Earth,_

_Good will to men."_

_._

They maintained a good sound throughout "I Heard the Bells", before grandly rising in volume to complete the song.

_"The wrong shall fail,_

_The right prevail,"_

Isobel nodded fervently to these lyrics, finding them to represent her life motto.

_"With peace on Earth,  
Good will to men."_

_And women!_ Came the determined thought as she began to clap for them - the choir now starting to gracefully take their leave.

_._

_"_ _Hanerot Halalu,"_ Mr. Carson had been thankful Atticus was willing to occasionally come up during his lunch period so they could go over and double-check the Hebrew pronunciation.

_"_ _Anachnu madlikin,"_

It truly was a gorgeously haunting piece. And, having worked on not only translating but also understanding the Hebrew, Mr. Carson felt that he developed more of an appreciation for the song now.

_"_ _Al hanissim ve-al haniflaot,_

_Al hatshu-ot ve'al hamilchamot_

_She-asita la'avoteynu"_

Furthermore, the simple yet powerful lyrics made for an entrancing song. One that moved the audience through sentiment alone.

_._

Elsie had been pleased that Mr. Carson was the type to include holiday music that wasn't just about Christmas.

_"_ _Bayamim hahem, bazman hazeh_

_Al yedey kohanecha hakdoshim."_

She was also pleased when she realized that this version would be _a cappella._ It was a fact she never smugly brought up, true. But it was one that she happily thought about from time to time.

_._

_"_ _Bayamim hahem,"_

The young gentlemen proceeded to delve into the divine minor key one last time.

_"_ _Bazman hazeh."_

It was chilling. And as Elsie looked over the English translation, the lyrics resting in her binder on the piano, she remembered that the feeling behind the song was one she could easily relate to.

Blessings did happen, after all. Else she would have never had the opportunity to sit on this piano bench.

_._

The second song for Men's Ensemble had far more of an uplifting tune than "Hanerot Halalu".

_"_ _Mary had a baby,"_

Elsie's fingers danced through the glissandos with ease, focused on accompanying the ensemble the best she could and releasing the melancholic tone of the previous song.

_"_ _Mary had a baby!"_

_._

"Well, that's an interesting change in tune." Mrs. Bird had not been able to fully lift herself up from the somber mood that "Hanerot Halalu" left behind, not even with this version of "Mary Had a Baby".

"I'll say" Beryl quipped in response, completely understanding.

_._

As the beautiful song finished, the ensemble smiled at the smattering of lovely applause. It was a delightful version, one that brought a smile to several in attendance - whether they realized it or not.

_Well, that's my cue._

Elsie was poised to stand up and stretch her legs after the Men's Ensemble transitioned off the stage - so as to be able to continue sitting at the piano once more for the Advanced Mix Choir.

Of course, she wouldn't dare to move from her spot until the gentlemen start to vacate the risers.

But, much to her confusion, the boys were not doing that just yet.

Far from it.

_What on Earth?_

Mr. Carson was now turning to the soloist microphone, beginning to speak calmly as though he wasn't going off-script and deviating from the program altogether.

"The Men's Ensemble," As they were noted in the concert program, "Is proud to present one more song. We wanted to put together a thank you to Mrs. Hughes, someone with whom we have had the pleasure of working with this last semester. Without her help, we would have been thrown into the unforgiving depths of chaos, I'm sure."

She froze, a professional smile of gratitude pasted onto her face as she watched her colleague continue to speak. Simply put, she was stunned into silence, unable to do more than observe her friend as he eventually turned away from the microphone and pulled out - much to her growing bewilderment - a brand new pitch pipe.

Charles didn't glance in her direction as he blew the pitch, far from it. But she still caught a twitch of a smile as the pitch was played. That's when she knew that he had been somehow been secretly planning this for months.

Furthermore, from the way his eyes faintly twinkled, it was clear that he knew he had surprised her.

Secret plans aside, her attention was now being stolen by watching William step down from the risers and up to the microphone. She inched forward in her seat, quite agog by the whole proceedings.

_"_ _By yon bonnie banks,"_

Elsie sharply inhaled, not having expected this to be performed.

_"_ _And by yon bonnie braes."_

_"_ _Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond,"_

And William, though his accent was certainly not Scottish, had a stunningly forward motion to his voice as he crescendoed within his solo.

_._

Within the captivated audience, there was one teenager who quietly watched the proceedings with great interest.

_"_ _Where me and me true love_

_Were ever wont to gae."_

Choirs had always held an interest for him and, as such, he wanted to investigate Downton Academy's before officially committing to transferring for the spring semester. His mother understood the interest and, respecting the fact that he didn't want to be swayed by her or his distant cousins' judgments, allowed him to sit on his own for tonight - hidden within the crowd of choral supporters.

_"_ _On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomon'."_

Though the teen had sat in on a few rehearsals and even met repeatedly with the two teachers in charge of the program, he had never caught this particular piece being rehearsed. Naturally, he was quite taken with it.

And as the soloist stepped back into the risers to join his fellow singers as they began a chilling chorus of sound, the young man listening was struck with a very strong feeling of camaraderie and respect. A feeling that transferring here would allow him to live life in a simpler way - a way that was far more rewarding than what he'd been putting up with.

Essentially, it was with this piece in particular that informed Matthew Crawley that he was making the right decision.

_._

_"_ _Oh, ye'll tak' the high road_

_And I'll tak' the low road."_

Misty-eyed would have been an understatement for Elsie as she watched the ensemble glide through the beautiful, poignant piece.

_"_ _And I'll be in Scotland afore ye;"_

_._

Beryl watched only the two teachers on stage, taking note of the water now tracing her friend's cheeks whilst her coworker continued to conduct with exceptionally sweeping movements - as though to wipe those tears away.

_"_ _But me and me true love_

_Will never meet again"_

Truly, if they didn't address their feelings for one before Elsie left, Beryl would have to take matters into her own hands.

_"_ _On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomon'_

_._

_"'_ _Twas there that we parted in yon shady glen,_ "

Charles coaxed them into _mezzo-forte_ , letting his hands speak of the importance of dynamics within this piece.

_On the steep, steep side o' Ben Lomon',_

They breathed as one, him and his gentlemen, with their harmonies sweetly blending into the air.

_"_ _Where deep in purple hue_

_The Hieland hills we view,_

_And the moon coming out in the gloamin'."_

He was very proud of them all, for being willing to learn this piece on top of everything else. For putting all this wonderful time and energy into one more song.

_"_ _Oh, ye'll tak' the high road_

_And I'll tak' the low road."_

And now that they were able to perform it for an audience, it was perfect.

_"_ _And I'll be in Scotland afore ye."_

Though, really.

_"_ _But me and me true love_

_Will never meet again._

For this song, she was their only audience.

_On the bonnie, bonnie banks_

_Of Loch Lomon'."_

_._

William stepped forth once as a sense of calm washed over him, coating his words in a confident sorrowful tone.

_"_ _The wee birdies sing and the wild flow'rs spring,_

_And in sunshine the waters are sleepin'."_

The words rose forth, echoing throughout the room as he sang from the heart.

_"_ _But the broken heart it kens nae_

_Second spring again."_

He hoped that Mrs. Hughes loved this surprise. He hoped his dad was proud of him and that his mom would be as well if she were still here.

_"_ _And the world knows not how"_

He hoped for future moments filled with grateful consideration that were just as powerful as these.

_"_ _We are grieving."_

_._

William stepped away from the microphone and silence held the room for a spell.

She raised her hands to clap, to enthusiastically applaud them for their fantastic efforts, but saw Mr. Carson had not lowered his hands.

They were not finished just yet.

That's when all the boys began to chorus a soft sound. A sound that grew in strength and dynamics as Mr. Carson slowly walked backwards and allowed the first row to step away from the risers. One by one, the teens began to form a line on the edge of, practically hugging one another due to the lack of space between them.

The harmonies grew, as did the hints of volume. And, as the second row joined the first - soon followed by the third and fourth rows, respectively - she couldn't help but glow with pride.

_"_ _Oh, ye'll tak' the high road_

_And I'll tak' the low road."_

Mr. Carson was now stepping towards stage-right, coming closer to her as the ensemble was now completely off the risers and gathered on the stage.

_"_ _And I'll be in Scotland afore ye."_

She was quite thankful for the fact that the boys obscured her presence from the audience - it made it easier to let the tears fall.

_"_ _For me and me true love_

_Will never meet again,_

_On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomon'."_

They gestured to the audience, inviting them all to sing the chorus one more time.

And, as the crowd began to sing along, the auditorium divinely rang once more with empowering sound.

_._

After the audience had joined in, Mr. Carson brought them back to an even keel once more - guiding the sound from _fortissimo_ back into the realm of _forte._

_"_ _But me and me true love_

_Will never meet again,_

The singers paused, sharing one more moment of silence on stage before finally delving into the final segment of the piece.

_"_ _On the bonnie, bonnie banks_

_Of Loch Lomon'."_

_._

He hazarded a glance in her direction in the midst of the thunderous applause, praying that he hadn't cross the boundary lines of propriety too much. And, above all, he hoped that he hadn't offended her with this little surprise.

However, when Charles finally saw the watermarks adorning Elsie's face, watermarks that only further accentuated that beautiful upward curve of her lips, he knew that being offended was one of the last things in the world she currently felt.

_._

"Was that in the program, Cora? It was quite impressive." The woman sighed at her husband's unintentional ignorance, barely refraining from rolling her eyes after that breathtaking performance.

"Had you been awake near the end of "Mary Had a Baby", Robert, you would have heard Mr. Carson's speech to introduce "Loch Lomond" as a surprise to honor Mrs. Hughes."

"Oh," He sheepishly readjusted himself, now determined more than ever to stay awake. "Well I'm sure it was quite the surprise."

At this, Cora couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Honestly," She began, knowing already that her message wouldn't get across even if she did try to explain her current frustration.

_._

Elsie was still sat at the piano, absolutely touched by that stunning rendition. Tears probably continued to stain her cheeks, and her voice would most likely be cracking in gratitude if she had to speak.

_He remembered._

She had only been humming it once - not normally one to indulge in wistful nostalgia when she was about to handle teenagers first thing in the morning. And, when she had stepped into the classroom, he hadn't even remarked on her humming. In fact it was she who eventually came out of her thoughts and realized that now was not the time nor place for such sentimentality.

_But, he still remembered._

Fortunately, Elsie didn't have to leave the piano anytime soon. She didn't have to try to pull herself together in regards to anything other playing the accompaniment. And, once she made sure clean-up was taken care of and the students were picked up, then she could properly regain her bearings and thank Mr. Carson for such a touching surprise.

For now, though, she could simply hope to catch his eyes in the midst of the Men's Ensemble giving the stage over to the Advanced Mixed Choir. That, and maintain her spot at the piano.

Fortunately, even if she couldn't catch his eyes, Elsie had a very strong feeling that he already knew how touched she was.

"Are you alright, Mrs. Hughes?" Anna would be the one to break concert etiquette and quietly whisper to her accompanist as the young woman walk past the piano.

"Quite alright, thank you, Anna."

Naturally, the younger woman wasn't convinced - even as she demurely continued to her place on the risers.

In any case, Anna making it to her spot meant that almost all the sections were on stage. So, it only would be another minute or two before they can begin.

Which also meant that, in a minute, her colleague would be joining her at the piano.

_._

"Do you think there'll be any additional pieces added to the concert? Or shall we actually adhere to the program?" Isobel quietly scoffed at Violet's remark, wanting once more to sit near her son instead of here. After all, Matthew had been contemplating transferring into Downton, and she wanted to help as much as he could.

But he had wanted to see the school from the perspective of someone who wasn't given special treatment because he was an administrator's son. And so, instead of sharing this lovely concert with her son, she had to sit next to her esteemed colleagues and distant relatives.

Joy.

_._

"Wonders never cease." Beryl remarked dryly, curious as to why Mr. Carson was now joining Mrs. Hughes at the piano.

"You can say that again," Jane muttered.

"'Wonders never cease.'" Albert dutifully repeated for the woman, chuckling as both teachers sent him variations of a glare.

_._

They stared at each other for a moment, almost forgetting their places. She still held hints of tears in her eyes, though crying was not going to occur anytime soon. And oddly enough, he himself wanted to wipe the water marks away instead of carrying on like normal. Though he could only suppose it did make sense -having her cry had not been his intention with the surprise. It was supposed to be only an acknowledgement that would hopefully convey his gratitude for everything this semester.

"Shall we, then?" She broke the silence first, looking back towards the waiting audience.

"No better time than the present." _No better time than the present?_ He couldn't believe such words came from him in the middle of a concert.

To hide his surprise, Charles sharply looked up at his students, making sure they were paying attention as he rose a hand to start them off.

The energized notes of the piano charged into the room, readying the audience for an empowering to start off this particular choir.

_"_ _Oh come all ye faithful,"_

The men started off this piece in a majestic tone, commanding the audience's attention.

_"_ _Joyful and triumphant!_

_O come ye, o come ye_

_To Bethlehem."_

_._

Now Beryl could see why both teachers were needed at the piano.

_"_ _Come and behold him,_

_Born the King of Angels!"_

Typically, like many other songs performed tonight, this piece only required one accompanist - leaving the other teacher left to conduct the choir.

_"_ _Oh come,_

_Let us adore Him."_

However, in today's case, the piano arrangement for "O Come All Ye Faithful" was complex enough that it required four hands instead of the usual two.

_"_ _Oh come,_

_Let us adore Him."_

It was a powerful implication, suggesting that the choir on hand didn't need a conductor in order to perform, Still, Beryl couldn't help wondering just which of the two teachers had been the one to suggest this arrangement. It did force both teachers to sit rather closely to one another. And, judging from their movements across the piano keys, their hands had to cross paths on more than one occasion.

_"_ _Oh come,_

_Let us adore Him,"_

Her money was personally on Mr. Carson making the decision - seeing as how Elsie would already be playing the accompaniment to begin with.

_"_ _Christ the Lord."_

But, like many other questions she had for the two of them, Beryl suspected she'd never be getting an answer.

_._

_"_ _Sing choirs of angels,"_

The women took over, their voices sweeping over the accompaniment.

_"_ _Sing in exultation,"_

At the sound of such a familiar song, and one that was certainly not going to alter its course, several in the audience sank back into their seats with relief. They had appreciated the earlier songs with their unique inspirations. But there was something fulfilling and calming about knowing the direction the choir was currently taking.

_"_ _Sing all ye citizens of Heaven above."_

_"_ _Glory,"_ The men attacked the space with the powerful note, letting the ladies crescendo into _"Glory to God!"_ only to purposefully let their voices step back at the sound of "God" - reeling the audience further in.

_"_ _All Glory in the highest."_

_._

_"_ _O come let us adore Him,"_ The sopranos faithfully held out the last of their lovely notes as the rest of the choir continued on.

_"_ _O come let us adore Him."_ They began to split into their various sections, making each part known to the crowd.

_"_ _O come let us adore Him,_

_Christ the Lord."_

The pianists continued dutifully accompanying their singers, slowly building towards the key change and hinting to the audience that things were about to get magnificently impressive.

_._

_"_ _Ye, Lord, we greet Thee_

_Born this happy morning!"_

The harmonies hinted as the choir continued to rise far beyond _forte_.

_"_ _Jesus to thee_

_Be all glory give,"_

_"_ _Word of the Father,"_

The sopranos arced through their splendid notes, working alongside the altos, the tenors, the baritones and basses to produce further glorious sound - sound that permeated every centimeter of the auditorium.

_"_ _Now in flesh appearing,"_

No one was asleep for such a potent song - and certainly not at such a mesmerizing section.

_"_ _O come let us,"_ The men quietly began, still commanding the audience's attention.

_"_ _O come,"_ The sopranos serenely followed, calling out to the crowd as the altos allowed the ripple to continue with a chilling, _"O come let us adore,"_

The reverberations written out for the choir were followed to the letter, allowing the various parts individually come forth and interact with the audience - clearly showing off their magnificent ranges before joining together as a whole once more.

_"_ _O come let us_

_Adore him,_

_Christ,"_

With the sounds of musical resolution on the way, many watching began to hold their breath in great anticipation.

_"_ _The Lord."_

Each part proudly held out their note for the next several seconds, as the accompaniment continued to carry them all to the end of the piece.

_._

Mr. Carson began to stand, absorbing in the gorgeous applause with delight. Elsie warmly looked at him, taking in the moment for what it was.

"They were quite splendid." She complimented in a hushed tone, garnering only a serious nod of agreement as the man stepped around the piano to take his customary spot on the stage. Her lips contained twitches of mirth as she watched him confidently approach the choir.

Only he could turn the action of walking into a performance filled with considerate propriety and graceful decorum.

_._

It was with an exhalation of relief that Mr. Carson arrived at the center of the stage, now taking his customary spot in front of his choir. While a choir director is not supposed to biased when it comes to the ensembles, even a conductor can have his favorites. After all, many of these singers before him had been his students since the first day they started at Downton. He'd had the pleasure of watching them blossom from hesitant pupils to fantastic performers - well-verse in regards to diction, vowel modification, clarity of pitch, and more.

Suffice to say, he was indeed proud of them.

The students met his solemn face, noting the sense of pride that still peeked through his stern demeanor. Now being experience enough to read through his stern demeanor, their hearts were warmed by the praise. And this firmly remained the case even as they maintained their own focused expressions - knowing that there were still several more songs to perform.

He lifted his hands, turning to Elsie so as to ensure that she would come in playing the piano precisely when he wanted her to.

_._

_"_ _Bashana,"_

The melody now floating from the piano blanketed the room with a feeling of somber nostalgia. The voices held a hushed tone of quiet, introspective remembrance.

_"_ _Haba'ah."_

Their words rose in dynamics, the Hebrew sung as though it were deeply familiar - instead of learned within the last four months.

_"_ _Bashana,_

_Haba'ah."_

The piano was the only instrument, other than the voices of the choir. This arrangement was rarer to hear performed live, but was still as potent as any of the others.

_"_ _Bashana Haba'ah._

_Neishev al hamiperset,_

_V'nispor tziporim nod'dot."_

The men were the first in this segment, their serious voices reflecting the mood of the piece quite well.

_"_ _Y'ladim b'chufsha,_

_Y'sachaku tofeset_

_Bein habayit l'vein_

_Hasadot."_

There was a hopefulness within their voices, balancing the dark and reminiscing accompaniment.

_"_ _Od tir'eh, od tir'eh,_

_Kama tov yihiyeh_

_Bashana bashana_

_Haba'ah."_

The women repeated the chorus, reflecting the sentiment of how the audience would see just how good it will be next year. The sopranos soared into the sky of higher notes - not quite reaching the stratosphere, but certainly landing among the clouds.

The notes from the piano continued, still dancing in the idea of the possibilities for the next year. The choir rejoined the accompanist, starting with a low, _piano_ "Oh" that grew into a spine-chilling level - daring to go past _fortissimo._

_"_ _Bashana,"_ The sopranos started, the lower sections echoing not far behind.

_"_ _Haba'ah!"_

_"_ _Neishev al hamirpeset_

_V'nispor tziporim nod'dot!"_

_"_ _Y'ladim," "Bashana"_

_"_ _B'chufsha" "Habah'ah"_

The sounds bounced back and forth between the sections as each rippled through the feelings of fighting for optimism. This was no longer a serene piece that spoke of fading nostalgia. It was a battle in the minor-key - a fight that illustrated the belief that there are things to look forward to in the future.

_"_ _Y'sachaku tofeset_

_Bein habayit l'vein hasadot!"_

The chorus repeated twice, absorbed into the fabric of mournful hope - mournful for the loss of time, hopeful for what could be.

They quieted down, the echoes of next year sounding throughout the auditorium once more.

_"_ _Bashana,_

_Haba'ah."_

The notes of the piano twirled through the heart wrenching sounds that accompany many a Jewish song, ending on one final somber note.

_._

The appreciative applause shook the mood of the stage, stirring every performer back to reality. Performing such a beautiful and melancholic piece required a great deal of energy. Doing so tended to result in lowered spirits all around and a darker mood overall.

Little did the audience know, this next song that was to be performed wasn't all that much better - in regards to a contemplative and mournful tone.

Though, there would be an appreciation to be had, nevertheless.

_._

The two girls shared a glance with their conductor before stepping off the risers and walking to the front.

"I didn't know Anna and Mary would be performing a duet." Robert whispered his question to his wife, but she was already starting to lean forward and give the two singers her full attention.

Though, she had enough time to hand him the program before fully immersing herself in the song:

"Oh, I see." He opened the program, not having been giving it his proper attention before. She shushed him before he could make any more noise, as the song was going to begin soon.

Squinting as best as he could in the lighting, Robert hastily scanned the program for the appropriate section. He found it record time, taking note that the solos were indeed written out as such:

_Concert Choir_

"O Come All Ye Faithful" as arranged by Dan Forrest

"Bashanah Haba'ah" as arranged by John Leavitt

"Breath of Heaven" as arranged by Craig Courtney

\- Combined Solo: Mary Crawley and Anna Smith

"Sleep Little Baby Sleep" as composed by Robert S. Cohen

_._

Mary looked up towards where she knew her parents would be sitting. The stage lights did make it practically impossible for her to truly see them, but she was rather pleased that she could in fact make out their silhouettes in the light.

Anna, on the other hand, didn't know if her parents had been able to make it tonight. Though, even if they didn't, it'd be okay: she at least got to sing with her friends.

Though, it was a bit unnerving, stepping forward to sing a solo. The lights were pressing themselves into her eyes mercilessly, the stuffy air not doing any wonders for her now pounding heart.

But, as she walked forward, she remembered that she wasn't alone.

And as that realization took hold of her, it became easier to breathe.

_._

Elsie began to play the appropriate notes once she was cued, watching both girls out of the corner of her eye.

_"_ _I have traveled,"_

Anna was first, the nerves showing themselves in the unusually breathy quality and shallow breathing she now held. She carried the appropriate notes, and her nerves did allow her emotions to come through. She was just new to the world of solo performance, that much was clear.

_"_ _Many moonless nights."_

The nerves faded a little, but the shallow breaths still remained.

_"_ _Cold and weary,_

_With a babe inside."_

Mary put a hand on her friend in comfort, turning her head so that the mic would also pick up her voice. For it was now her turn to sing.

_"_ _And I wonder what I've done."_

She did hold a beautiful tone, one that Elsie had to admit was quite suited to these notes. With a voice now clearly sailing around the room, the choir teacher had to also confess that Mary was indeed suited to the solo.

_"_ _Holy Father you have come,"_

They both started to sing into the mic after this lyric, the emotion coming more strongly from Mary whereas the confidence Anna normally held was beginning to return.

_"_ _And chosen me now,"_ Their voices blended fabulously - emotion and power combining for an impactful solo.

_"_ _To carry your son."_

_._

The soloists returned to their spots on the risers as the choir prepared to descend into the song one last time.

_"_ _I am waiting,"_

The hints of exhausted despair emanated as they continued.

_"_ _In a silent prayer._

_I am frightened,_

_By the load I bear."_

The audience was chilled by the haunting melody, taken in with the sorrowful song.

_"_ _In a world_

_As cold as stone._

_Must I walk this path alone?"_

The women continued to carry the weight of singing on their own shoulders, sending goosebumps and shivers through the crowd.

_"_ _Be with me now."_

_"_ _Be with me now."_

They arrived at the chorus of the piece, the piano notes twinkling in a hope that rose above the burdens.

_"_ _Breath of heaven,_

_Hold me together."_

The gentlemen joined the ladies, mirroring the melody in their respective octave.

_"_ _Be forever near me,_

_Breath of heaven."_

_"_ _Breath of heaven,_

_Lighten my darkness._

_Pour over me your holiness,_

_For you are holy."_

The notes sank into silence, as though the singing were the light being searched for and the silence were the abyss of darkness that so desperately fought the light.

_"_ _Breath of heaven."_

_._

Elsie continued to play the accompaniment, surprisingly still taken in by the melody - even after all the times she'd had to play it for auditioning soloists.

Of course, it was a different experience when she was able to progress throughout the song and work with a choir - instead of practicing with an individual.

_"_ _Do you wonder,"_ The ladies asked, rising in volume as the men followed, _"Do you wonder,"_

_"_ _As you watch my face,"_

_"_ _If another," "If another,"_

_"_ _Should have had my place?"_

While she wasn't necessarily religious per se, she could relate to a song like this. Wondering if she was on the right path, questioning whether or not she should have gone another way.

_"_ _But I offer all I am,_

_For the mercy of your plan,"_

Sometimes, though it felt frustrating, it was necessary to go along with life's plan and see just what the world had to offer.

_"_ _Help me be strong."_

The choir softened a little in dynamic, coming into _mezzo-piano._

_"_ _Help me be."_

_Mezzo-piano_ quieted to something that branched between _piano_ and _pianissimo_ \- becoming an almost silent plea.

_"_ _Help me."_

_._

_"_ _Breath of heaven,"_

The sopranos gathered the melody in hand once more, the lower sections either following them or trailing right after.

_"Hold me together."_

It felt like the journey of the century was being conveyed in these voices.

_"_ _Be forever near me,_

_Breath of heaven."_

_"_ _Breath of heaven,_

_Lighten my darkness._

_Pour over me your holiness,_

_For you are holy."_

_._

Her hands rose up the keys of the piano with ease, bringing the choir towards the key change of the piece. And as her her hands traveled up the keys, his hands rose to bring them to a new level of dynamics when it came to their sound.

_"_ _Breath of heaven!"_

No more was it to be pleading whispers.

_"_ _Be forever near me,_

_Breath of heaven!"_

The men started the melody this time, supporting the women as they sprang into varied lines of melody and harmony.

_"_ _Breath of heaven!_

_Pour over me your holiness_

_For you are holy!"_

They followed their director's lead, coming back down into _mezzo-piano._

_"_ _Breath of heaven,"_ The ladies sang, alone once again.

_"_ _Breath of heaven,"_ The men murmured in response, as Anna and Mary were now walking back to the soloist mic.

_"_ _Breath of heaven."_ Their voices rippled around the auditorium, fading into the air. They stood there in silence, waiting for their choir teacher to bring the song to a beautiful end.

_._

_"_ _Sleep,"_

Robert was not the only one seriously considering the suggestion now being sung by the choir.

_"_ _Sleep,"_

It wasn't his fault, not really - it couldn't be help when the melody was quite so hypnotic.

_"_ _Sleep, little baby, sleep,_

_The holy Angels love thee,"_

The lower sections now singing blanketed the room with a comforting tone, lulling the crowd further into the tranquil piece.

_"_ _And guard thy bed and keep_

_A blessed watch among thee."_

_"_ _No spirit can come near,_

_Nor evil beast to harm thee."_

It was a song that turned the grand auditorium into a sanctuary of sorts - that allowed any and all tension to be soothed away.

_"_ _Sleep," "Little baby, sleep"_

_"_ _Sleep," "Little baby, sleep,"_

The main lyric was eased back and forth between the altos and the tenors whilst the sopranos' maintained dulcet tones to help induce sleep.

_._

_"_ _Devoid of fear,_

_Where nothing need alarm thee."_

Elsie had been so taken with this charming rendition when she first heard it within these walls.

_"_ _The love," "The love which doth not sleep,_

_The eternal Arms surround thee."_

Even as she trailed along to the peaceful song in this moment, she could feel all weariness and pain - the strains she didn't even realize she carried - fade away.

_"_ _The shepherd of the sheep_

_In perfect love hath found thee._

_Found thee."_

_._

Charles watched his choir as his hands guided them through the calming song.

_"_ _Sleep through the holy night,_

_Christ kept from snare and sorrow."_

He saw all the stress that normally overtook his charges leave them as they continued to perform. Kind smiles and soft beams, expressions that deeply resonated with the song's comforting message, brushed away the fatigue that was typical at this time of year.

_"_ _Until thou wake to light_

_And love and warmth tomorrow."_

And though he normally never spared a glance at anything other than his students in the middle of the concert he did make one exception.

At the sound of particular lyrics, he did briefly glimpse at the pianist who had been wonderfully accompanying them throughout this entire semester.

_._

_"_ _Sleep through the holy night,_

_Christ kept from snare and sorrow."_

Burdens continued to be assuaged.

_"_ _Sleep," "Little baby, sleep,"_

_"_ _Sleep," "Little baby, sleep,"_

Fears and tensions were alleviated, temporarily let go of for as long as possible.

_"_ _Sleep until thou wake_

_To light and love and warmth."_

The reassuring tones made it possible for the audience to drift into the depths of vocal comforts.

_"_ _Tomorrow."_

_._

_"_ _Sleep,"_

_"_ _Little baby, sleep,"_

The tenors cradled the melody, delicately passing it to the altos after a few seconds.

_"_ _Little baby, sleep,"_

This rocking of melody, moving back and forth between the two sections with ease, was the icing on the cake.

_"_ _Little baby, sleep,"_

_._

The applause was a bit groggy this time, as many in the crowd had fallen under the spell of the song.

And, seeing as how this was the last song before the finales, it only made for Mr. Carson to make a speech - in an effort to wake up the crowd, of course.

"I would personally like to thank you all for coming to our show tonight," He started to intone most seriously, his gratitude quite sincere. "Without your support, this wouldn't be possible."

_._

The choir director spoke a little more, giving every student enough time to find their station within the room. The Treble Choir spread out throughout the balcony, Bel Canto took the sides of the main floor. The Men's Ensemble and the Bass Choir took the stage while the Women's Ensemble proudly stood in the orchestra pit.

All eyes were on Mr. Carson as he walked to the main floor, leaving the stage in order to conduct all the choirs more efficiently.

Upon arrival, he lifted one hand - firmly giving Mrs. Hughes the command to begin playing the first of the finale songs. She followed without question, her hands running over the familiar notes as a smile couldn't help but form on her face.

_"_ _Oh Holy Night,_

_The stars are brightly shining."_

The lyrics certainly made it easy to recall a fond memory as she remembered meeting Charles while he had been humming this song to himself.

_"_ _It is the night of our dear Savior's birth."_

And while she couldn't afford to lose her focus on the accompaniment, she certainly could fondly recall the days that had soon followed.

_"_ _Long lay the world_

_In sin and error pining,_

_Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth."_

_"_ _A thrill of hope_

_The weary world rejoices,"_

Her lips twitched in amusement at this, knowing that this thrill of hope referenced in "O Holy Night" was not the same one her mind was thinking of. But, it was true: getting this opportunity had brought her own thrill of hope - and for more than one reason at that.

_"_ _For yonder breaks_

_A new and glorious morn."_

_._

_"_ _Fall on your knees,_

_Oh hear the angels' voices."_

Charles deeply breathed in the gorgeous sound that was now encompassing the auditorium. 204 voices filled the space up with an excellent quality of sound that just couldn't be replicated.

_"_ _O night divine,_

_O night_

_When Christ was born."_

_Forte_ was easily reached with this army of singers, his hands striking through the air to control the tempo and dynamics.

_"_ _O night_

_Divine."_

He brought them back towards _mezzo-piano,_ guiding them towards an even-keel so the audience wouldn't be too overwhelmed by their vocal power just yet.

_"_ _Led by the light_

_Of faith serenely beaming,_

_With glowing hearts by his cradle_

_We stand."_

Speaking of hearts and serenity, even in the midst of conducting this finale piece, he couldn't help but be drawn to a few memories now associated with this song. Moments spent on the stairwell, minutes tucked away in search for music.

_"_ _So led by light_

_Of a star sweetly gleaming,_

_Here came the wise men_

_From the orient land."_

After a few seconds, Charles tried to focus purely on the task at hand - directing his gaze only at his charges as he continued to conduct. Thinking of those memories would do nothing for the present moment at hand. Furthermore, a quick look at Elsie informed him that she was intently focused on playing the accompaniment - not reminiscing on the past.

Therefore, why should he?

_"_ _The King of Kings lay thus_

_In lowly manger,_

_In all our trials_

_Born to be our friend."_

But, even with that rationale, it was hard to remain as focused as he might have once been.

_._

Beryl deeply breathed in the music now flooding the room.

_"_ _Fall on your knees,"_

Why they had chosen this song, Elsie had never said.

_"_ _O hear the angels' voices."_

It was clear there was a story behind it, judging from the blush that her friend held as she mentioned the finales.

_"_ _O night_

_Divine."_

But, the story was never explained. No elaboration was given, just a quick mentioning and a very telling blush.

_"_ _O night,_

_When Christ was born."_

Either way, it was an absolutely brilliant rendition of the song - sending shivers of awe down her spine.

_"_ _O night,_

_Divine._

_O night,_

_O night divine."_

_._

They circled back to the chorus once more, the magnificent level of sound building far past _fortissimo_ for the final rendition of the chorus.

_"_ _Fall on your knees!"_

The notes of the piano were no longer played delicately, the full potential of the instrument's force coming into play.

_"_ _O hear the angels' voices!"_

Voices of all levels permeated the elegant room. Beginners who were singing in choir for the first time, students who had been training since they were four, all types of performers gave their heart and soul to singing this piece.

_"_ _O night divine_

_O night_

_When Christ was born!"_

The audience leaned into the music, knowing that this was building into one final and grand section.

_"_ _O night_

_Divine!"_

The sopranos took hold of the dazzling note, the altos swiping into their own rich sound as the tenors, baritones and basses maneuvered through to help create the heavenly chords.

The audience leapt to their feet once Mr. Carson released his hands from the air, another thundering applause immediately taking over the room.

_._

_I told you we should have saved that for last._

The thought came with a shake of amusement as Elsie watched the crowd go wild - as wild as a crowd like this could, that is.

"Now how are we supposed to top that?" She quietly spoke to herself. However, she didn't mind all that much - now that the finales had started, it wasn't as though she could go back in time and change the order. Moreover, seeing as how they'd been debating about the finale set list ever since that fateful day in the music library, her energy was quite frankly spent.

The argument had been simple. He believed that the order of the finale songs should be chronological in regards to the celebrations, she was of the opinion that the grander of the two songs should be last. However, grandeur or not, this was one of the rare times in the last few months that Charles had won an argument. In this case, he had accomplished his objective solely by reminding his dear friend of the fact that he was her boss. As such, he had the final say on matters of importance - like the order when it came to the finale songs.

In short, he pulled rank.

Though, with a crowd now applauding them far more than at any previous point this evening, she could only assume he was retrospectively wishing they'd followed her idea.

_._

Charles basked in the applause once more, so very pleased that the first of the two songs had taken so well with the crowd.

Now it was true that this next piece would pale in comparison to "O Holy Night" in regards to splendor. However, it was the woman who inspired the selection that made it far more worthwhile to have this next song finish the show.

_And speaking of Mrs. Hugh- Elsie,_

He stole a glimpse at the woman in question, watching her still sat at the piano. She seemed deep in thought, contemplating something important no doubt. Though the playful look that was lightly reflected in her eyes reassured him that all was well.

_._

As the crowd was beginning to finally finish applauding from "O Holy Night", Elsie slowly stood up from the piano. The waves of all the emotions experienced within the last two hours were still coursing through her as she brought herself to her fullest height. As a professional musician, none of that internal conflict showed as she gently pressed down on the appropriate piano key - looking directly at Charles as she did so.

But, he saw through the facade in a heartbeat.

And, instead of cueing to choirs to start the final song of the evening, he merely looked back at her - even daring to raise an eyebrow.

_Oh, so I'm to start it, am I? Like you had once suggested?_

Yet Elsie was hardly upset with the man. Far from it - she was rather touched with the consideration he had about this. Choosing this song, having all these surprises for her within the last few weeks, it did touch her heart in a way she hadn't felt in quite a long time.

Though, touched hearts or not, she still believed "O Holy Night" should have ended the show.

Well, no matter. It was what it was.

And it also was time to get this song started before anything else occurred.

_"_ _Should auld acquaintance be forgot,"_

She began to sing, gesturing for both the crowd and the singers to chime in. Heavens forbid this turn into a solo - her voice wouldn't be able to manage after this emotional roller coaster of a night.

_"_ _And never brought to mind?"_

Most of them willingly followed, other than Violet Crawley and a few select others, of course.

_"_ _Should auld acquaintance be forgot_

_And auld lang syne?"_

_._

Judging from Elsie's watery eyes and the slight blush now making its presence known, Beryl was willing to bet that this had been the choir director's idea.

_"_ _For auld lang syne, my dear,_

_For auld lang syne."_

Though she was equally willing to bet that it was her friend that had been the one to make it a sing-along in the style of _a cappella_ , instead of a proper choir arrangement.

_"_ _We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet_

_For auld lang syne."_

_._

The halls of Downton Academy were tranquil, brimming with a hopeful energy that transcended the auditorium and poured itself into every crevice of the school. An energy that spoke of new beginnings, of fond remembrances, and of brilliant potentials.

_._

_"_ _For auld lang syne, my dear,_

_For auld lang syne._

_We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet_

_For auld lang syne."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On that beautiful note, I'd like to mention there will be one more chapter - an epilogue of sorts - coming your way. Either way, I hope you have a brilliant rest of your day and I look forward to posting the final update of this story soon. Thank you so very much for being apart of this musical journey - it has been quite a pleasure!


	19. Dashing Questions and Stolen Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter devoted mostly to Chelsie and my own final surprise for this little story <3

The concert could only have been deemed a success. From the second the crowd had begun to depart till well past the end of the week, Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson had received an overwhelming amount of awe-inspiring compliments intertwined with sincere recognition of their hard work for these last few months.

So much fervent praise was given that there had hardly been any time to converse just the two of them. When opportunity arose to finally breathe, a faculty or student would drop by to inform the teachers of just how “splendid” or how “awesome” the concert had been. And when there was finally a break in the overwhelming adoration, neither choir teacher had the strength to engage in anything.

Or, at least, that’s what it seemed to Elsie. The few times she’d had the energy to have any sort of chat with Charles, he had been called away or had remembered a meeting of importance relating to the next term.

Seeing how she’d be leaving in just a little while, that was a bit of a disappointment. Especially since she never had the chance to properly thank him for everything -- the songs, dressing up as Father Christmas, letting her take charge of various tasks instead of dismissing her as just his assistant. These were all aspects of the last several weeks that were greatly appreciated and, in her opinion, deserved acknowledgement.

_._

When Elsie had woken up and realized there was only a week left before she was off to whatever was next, it was with a frustrated air that she dragged herself out of bed to continue her daily morning ritual as of the last few weeks:

  
  
Nibble on some toast and continue searching for jobs that would hopefully hire her. 

As of now, not many were interested or available -- and none that were in the area of Downton Academy. But, perhaps that unavailability was for the best: with everyone returning to their normal lives and with Mrs. Butte undoubtedly returning soon, it certainly time to hit the road in search for a new opportunity.

As the woman continued looking over various online job boards and newspapers, her eyes caught something unexpected. She took a break from the incessant searching upon noticing this particular sight, her mind thrown off by its appearance.

A smile began to spread once another thought properly as she closed the newspapers and turned off her laptop. A smile that would continue to expand as she began to get ready for the day and head to school a little earlier than anticipated.

She would continue the job search, of that there was no doubt. There would be time to stress about the future, wonder just when the unknown would finally reveal itself to her, and more.

But, she would be taking the time to bask in this sight that was so rare this time of year.

_._

It was rain that should’ve been snow by this point in the year. As it was, it was far more unpleasant than the rain they’d intermittently experienced in October.

And, much to his immense horror, she seemed far too content to enjoy this rain just as much.

“Mrs. Hughes,” He was glad to have caught her outside, though her slow pace that spoke of cherishing this weather was certainly not something he was glad for -- not if it could get her sick. “Do you always traverse through such weather in such a manner?”

She snorted at this, taking this as a sign she should slow down her pace even further. They were less than stone’s throw away from the main entrance of the school, and she now took to a leisurely  _ larghetto  _ whereas he wanted to be at a brisk  _ andante.  _

“What’s your favorite sort of weather, Mr. Carson?” For the first time in weeks, he took one of her unexpected questions in stride -- not even coming to a stop as he answered.

Though, he did have to think about his answer for a moment, mind.

“A nice day around 25 degrees. A hint of clouds, but not grey. With a light breeze, preferably.” She turned back to him at this, and how could he mind standing in such atrocious weather if it brought him such a radiant look of pleasure?

  
  
“That does sound quite pleasant indeed! Please, tell me more.”

_._

Through the halls they calmly brought additional water drops and added to the discord that came with squeaking shoes.

“Mr. Carson? Mrs. Hughes? You look as though you’ve gone to battle with the sky.” Violet Crawley remarked upon crossing their path through the first floor. Elsie merely bade her a polite greeting before not-so-subtly pushing her colleague in the direction of the stairs.

6:30 showdowns with the “Old Bat” -- as some of the more audacious students called her -- was just not her cup of tea.

Getting up to her classroom and drying up before the students arrived -- now,  _ that  _ was her cup of tea.

_._

Now there had indeed been a reason to converse with his colleague and friend -- he hadn’t been excited to see her merely because of her presence, though that was a bonus. 

Still, now that they were in one of the most secluded stairwells of the building, Charles felt it was time to mention something that had been on his mind for quite some time.

“Mrs. Hughes.”

“I don’t know about you, Mr. Carson, but this building has always struck me as unusually drafty.” She paused a short moment before chuckling to herself about something, “Well, maybe it’s not so unusual after all.” 

“Mrs. Hughes, there’s something I want to ask you.” But today Elsie seemed to be in her own world. Even when she turned her focus back to him with an inquisitive, “Yes, Mr. Carson?”, she seemed unable to fully concentrate. Her eyes, eyes that had carried a certain kind of tiredness since the concert, seemed to want to drift in attention today.

Unfortunately, said drifting did not apparently want to be directed towards him or anything he had to say.

“I was just wondering,” However, her gaze was caught up in watching the sky once again, much to his frustration. It became clearer by the moment: with such a distracted mind before him, it was not the appropriate time to ask his original question. 

But, make no mistake: that didn’t mean Charles was deterred from asking altogether. It simply meant he was going to change tracks when it came to guiding the conversation.

“Mrs. Hughes, have you made any plans for lunch today?”

Elsie stopped fixating on the skies at his question. But those eyes were still lost in the storms. And he didn’t like that, not one bit. These weren’t the storms that brought her to life. These clouds appeared to lift her for a few moments but only ended up having her fold in on herself. 

Which was strange, seeing as how these were the same clouds that had coaxed out such a beautiful smile from her only a short while ago.

“I was going to take lunch with Mrs. Patmore.” He deflated a little at this succinct response. “We haven’t properly chatted since before the concert.” 

“I see.” She blinked, as though she caught some of his disappointment. And the clouds jolted a little within those eyes at this disappointment, as though the sun were attempting to stir them away to see what she was missing.

“Would you be inclined to take lunch with me tomorrow, Mr. Carson?” They were now near 402, but he was oblivious to anything other than the current question. After all, clouds or not, she still wanted his company. And that recognition had quite frankly made his day.

“I would like that, yes.”

_._

“What do you think will happen to Mrs. Hughes?” Daisy couldn’t help but ask, having had the question on her mind for ages.

“What else? She’ll find a job and leave, of course.” Sarah piped up from her table with Thomas, and William glared at her for this bluntness.

“But, does she have to leave?” The Bel Canto singer couldn’t help but continue to ask the questions on her mind.

_._

“Mrs. Patmore,” Elsie paused, noticing with relief that no students were around. That made it easier to forego formalities she did not currently have the energy for. “Beryl.”

It wasn’t always that she made the trek across to the first fourth floor. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t want to see her dear friend, it was merely the effort that went into the journey: She first had to go downstairs to the third floor, walk all the way to one of the stairwells that would take her specifically to the first fourth floor, and then hike all the back up more stairs only to repeat the process in the other direction within the hour.

Needless to say, it was tedious.

“What is it, Elsie?”

And long-winded.

“Elsie?”

To the point where it could make one almost forget just why one came over in the first place.

The keyword being “almost” in this particular instance.

“Well, it’s just,” Elsie Hughes may bite her lip from time to time. She may wring her hands, roll her eyes in frustration, even stick out her tongue if she felt particularly cheeky.

But she was not one to stumble about her words in such a fashion.

“'It's just'?.” Beryl arched an eyebrow, contemplating just what would put her friend in such a state.

_ Could it possibly be that you’re realizing what we’ve all known for months?  _

“Well, it’s just that…” She seemed to pull herself back together and carry on. “I thought I was fine with the fact that I’m only here for a semester, but it seems I’m not. And now that the concert’s already over -- well, there’s only a week now before I'm to leave.”

_ Oh.  _

“Come here,” She commanded, opening her arms and beckoning the woman forth. Elsie took a hesitant step forth, still not believing that this warranted a hug. After all, this should hardly be something worth crying about or even requiring some form of reassurance. She had only been here for a semester, not several years. And she wasn’t one for tears or hugs or placating reassurances.

But, surprisingly enough, it quickly became clear that Elsie really did need that hug. 

“It’s just that, I know it’ll be fine. I know I’ll be able to visit even after this semester. And it wasn't like I was hired for more than the semester. But,” She sighed, still unwilling to let out any tears just yet. “I’ve grown attached to all of this. And, I don’t really want to go. Not just yet.”

“There, there.” Beryl soothed her best friend with gentle words, continuing to pour love into the platonic embrace. “It’ll be alright.”

And even if it wasn’t meant to be alright in the grand scheme, it was alright in this little moment. 

In this small respite, tucked carefully away in one of the corners of the school, it was okay.

_._

“Mrs. Hughes,” He approached her on a whim, still not sure why he was doing this in the first place.

“Thomas?” But, judging from the looks of it, his teacher wasn’t at her best.

“I-- it’s nothing, Mrs. Hughes. I’ll just be on my way--”

“Nonsense.” It was far sharper than he was expecting, all things considered. “So long as I am a member of this staff, there is no such thing as a bad time for students to drop by.” 

They both ignored the falter in her statement, seeing as how it would only serve to make this interaction more awkward.

“What was your question, Thomas?”

He paused, rather unsure of himself for once. But, she was just as sure to give him the space he needed. To not push him or have him slinking away at a moment’s notice.

“Well, I heard of some of your musical accomplishments,” After all, his eventual talk with Isobel Crawley did inform him of factors online research could not provide. “And, I was wondering if you had any advice on progressing as a singer.”

She was honored and surprised, to say the least. And, though a range of advice was now racing around her mind, there were only three pieces she felt truly fit the current situation.

“First,” He straightened up, prepared for anything. “You have to give life a shot. Even if it doesn’t seem feasible or it doesn’t seem likely, give opportunities to perform a chance. And keep trying, regardless of who gets the solos or what the final say is.”

Too many people gave up after their first rejection. And while she couldn’t see Thomas doing quite that, she could see him hesitating to let go of his inhibitions if he felt it was a pointless endeavour. And  _ that  _ would certainly get in the way.

“Secondly,” She maintained a steady gaze, imploring her pupil to truly listen to this. “There is a difference between taking opportunities and letting opportunities take your integrity. Even if it may slow down your career or your current ambitions, hold onto your integrity. Opportunities come and go -- your integrity is something you can lose if you're not careful.”

“And, finally,” She retrieved a pen and paper, quickly writing out something. “Ask for help from those who show they are genuinely interested.”

She held out the paper for him, offering it with ease. After half a minute of internal debate, he took the paper -- noticing that she had given him her email address.

“The world may not always be kind, Thomas. But there are those who truly care and want you to succeed.”

_._

Today had shifted into yesterday within the blink of an eye. And, before Charles Carson knew it, the promised lunch was close at hand.

“Did you have a preference for where we sit today?” 

He paused, taking a glance outside the windows. 

“I know it’s a little cold outside, but what do you think of taking lunch in the courtyard?” 

“I think that sounds perfectly lovely. Let me grab our coats.” 

_._

Once the couple had finally made it out into the fresh air, they made banal small talk that really didn’t become them. It’s just that Charles needed a few moments to just speak to her before broaching the real subject on hand. And, seeing as how this was a one-on-one meeting  _ after  _ the successful concert, Elsie had no current desire to prompt him into conversation that would be politely sending her off into the unknown. 

She only wanted to enjoy his company for as long she could. 

So, they danced around some more critiques of the concert. They dabbled in discussion about the other concerts that had also been successful -- Mrs. Patmore and her band, Mrs. Bird and her orchestra. They briefly remarked on the approval from the administration -- Violet Crawley had personally congratulated the two of them immediately after the show, and Mr. Carson had never quite received such a form of praise from the woman. 

But, after about ten minutes of dithering back and forth between topics, it was time to shift gears.

“Mrs. Hughes,” He had allowed the subject to be unspoken of for far longer than he anticipated. But, now it was crucial to broach the subject. After all, he was just gaining his nerve. Delaying the conversation might send it away. “May I make a suggestion that I think you’ll find a strange one, but I ask that you consider, nonetheless?”

Elsie had been looking out into the garden, determined to enjoy the scenery as her heart began to sink. She couldn’t help it -- she really would miss this school and working alongside these wonderful people. But, there was something inside that question of his that made her pause in her thoughts. There was a quality within his tone that brought forth a faint curiosity and a hesitant look in his direction.

“Heavens, I’m all agog.” As she dryly spoke, he noticed puffs of condensation floating alongside her words, softly fading into the space around them. But, while her breath may seem light and airy, her face was quite serious. And though he wasn’t intentionally trying to be enigmatic, his cryptically-phrased question probably didn’t help matters.

So, it seemed to be quite necessary to simply get straight to the point.

“Do you think that we should -- what I mean to say is, erm,” Her head tilted at this, unsure of what he’d be proposing and why he'd be so nervous. And with that inquisitive movement the proper words finally flew out into the open. “Would you be interested in staying on at Downton?” 

Her jaw dropped ever so slightly, eyes widening. 

“What on Earth do you mean?” 

“I was thinking that, if the choir department keeps expanding its repertoire, Mrs. Butte and I might not be able to keep up. But the three of us might.” He paused, trying to take in her expression before quickly getting out the rest of his idea so that he didn’t lose momentum. “I’ve already run the idea Mrs. Crawley and the others, and they do approve -- so long as you’re willing.

“With three people we could keep sprucing up the program and investing in the choral possibilities. We’d have an even more expansive section in the music department, one that might never fade into the background or ‘retire’ like so many tend to.”

She sat there on the bench, quite taken aback by the simple solution. Since that moment in Beryl’s classroom, when she finally allowed herself to start facing her emotions about leaving, she’d been even more determined to come to terms with the inevitable. The job searches increased, the appreciation for Downton rose in recognition of the incoming change, and she was pushing herself to really be okay with not knowing what was next.

Only, now, she didn't have to accepting wade into the unknown.

Or, at least, she didn't have to do that by herself.

“Well?”

“Well,” She exhaled, unable to do much else. “You could knock me down with a feather.”

“And you’re not offended? Only, I do recognize that you undoubtedly have more options than Downton. And, I don’t want to presume that you’d be inclined to remain here with--” She reached out a steadying hand to stop him in his tracks, content to put that train of thought to rest.

“Mr. Carson,” Her eyes lightly twinkled as she tried her best to convey all the wonderful emotions she currently felt. “I can assure you: the very last thing in the world that I am in this moment is offended.”

He released a soft sigh of relief, his own condensation unwittingly reaching out through the air to blend into hers.

“You can take as long as you like; I won’t press you. Because one thing I do know,” He sat up, drawing himself up to his fullest height all the while squarely maintaining her gaze. “I’m not hiring anyone else.”

It felt as serious as a marriage proposal. 

And though it was officially only a job offer, she knew that it was  _ so  _ much more. 

Moreover, while he’d only asked her a moment ago, that moment was all she needed to know what she wanted to do.

“Well then,” She softly beamed at him, before standing up and offering him her other hand hand -- just like that rainy October day all those weeks ago. “Shall we walk back together? Go back inside to celebrate?”

Charles wanted to reached out and accept her waiting hand, but couldn’t do that quite yet. He could be patient with her decision, whatever it was, but he had to know what it was she was now offering with this gesture.

“What exactly are we celebrating?” 

Her smile softened at the uncertainty in his voice as she took a step towards him, still offering her hand.

“We’re celebrating the fact that I can still get job offers at my age.” 

But, he still couldn’t quite accept her hand, not just yet.

“And, that’s it?” 

She let out an exhalation of fondness at his question, understanding perfectly where he was coming from and more than happy to say the words herself.

“Of course I’ll accept your offer,”  _ You old, endearing booby. _

His hand reached out to grasp hers at this, trembling ever so slightly as he allowed her to pull him off the bench. They stood there a moment in cherished silence, forgetting their places just like they did all those weeks ago.

But those feelings were soon hastily swept aside as he realized that there were several windows that overlooked the courtyard. Therefore, a plethora of people could be looking at them even in this moment. And so, fueled by a rush of flustering adrenaline, he started to guide them back into the building.

Though, one more question came to mind:

“You thought I’d never ask, didn’t you?” He can’t help but ask, staring at his fellow colleague and friend -- not realizing that they were still holding hands. 

“Not quite, Mr. Carson.” 

He knowingly looked at her, inherently recognizing that there was more she wanted to say. And it was with that beautiful smile -- the same smile that had stolen his heart the second he met her, whether he realized it or not -- that Elsie confessed the simple truth of the matter. 

“I didn’t realize it was possible.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being a part of this story - it's been an amazing experience and your support has been magnificent!
> 
> As you probably have guessed, I do have an idea for a sequel. I've even written a little, and plan on posting relatively soon.
> 
> It'd run along a similar vein to this story, but there'd be some distinct differences: Chelsie development would be growing in frequency and depth, there'll be full solos for students to take on, as well as a choir competition on top of the usual choir adventures. And, of course, you'd be able to finally meet the infamous Mrs. Butte.
> 
> So, if that at all interests you, definitely stick around. I'll post a new "chapter" here to let you know when the new story is up.


	20. A New Story

Once again, thank you all for the amazing support! I am very pleased to say that if you search for a story called "I Shall Not Sing In Vain", you will find the first chapter of the story is already posted on :) 

See you when I see you next! And, as always, have a great day :)

**Author's Note:**

> Short and sweet, but there's definitely more to come!
> 
> Also, while most of this has been written up, I can be flexible - it just depends on what the request is. 
> 
> Furthermore, I rather enjoy all the characters I'm incorporating into this. So, if anything comes off as character bashing or if anyone gets neglected, please know that that wasn't my intention.
> 
> In any case, I hope you have a lovely day!


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